


A Science of Uncertainty

by calliesghost



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-01 11:55:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 27,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calliesghost/pseuds/calliesghost
Summary: Hello, lovely readers! Thanks for coming back! I just wanted to let you all know - my life is a bit busier now than during the bulk of the time I was writing "There is Always a Cost." Just know that I adore this story, I have big plans for it, and I won't abandon it. Be patient with me ;) Thanks in advance, as always, for your lovely thoughts.





	1. Chapter 1

**A Science of Uncertainty**

**Chapter 1**

 

> _“Medicine is a science of uncertainty and an art of probability.”_
> 
> _~ William Osler_

~***~

They say that it’s normal to feel exhausted during residency. They say that medical school prepares you for many things, but nothing can prepare you for the toll the hours will take on your body and your mind. If it’s your brain which is shaped during medical school, it’s your soul that is shaped during residency. This is the time when you find out who you really are, what kind of doctor you’re going to be. Therese tried to remember all of the proverbs the smarter people that came before her had said.

It was 3:47 am on a typical early weekday morning. Was it Tuesday? Her scrubs were sticking to her back in all the areas she had made contact with the faux leather chair in the residents’ lounge, offering a harsh reminder that even a small moment of reprieve was likely to be more trouble than it’s worth. Therese didn’t believe in superstition, not after this much time spent on the medical wards. But there was truth to the fact that any time an on-call intern tried to close her eyes, her pager would inevitably come calling moments later.

She fumbled around under her jacket for the chirping pager. Squinting, she brought it up to eye level. She was reaching across her body trying to grasp for the phone to return the page when the coiled phone cord knocked an old styrofoam cup off the table, coating her scrub bottoms with cold, stale coffee from the knees down.

“Fuck!” Therese jumped up, more awake now from the coffee dripping down her socks than she would have been from ingesting it. “Floor intern,” she stammered into the phone.  

“Yes, hi. I had to get a stat EKG.” The voice was crisp and low, awake. This nurse clearly gave zero fucks about anything other than making it to 7 am. Therese had been at work since the last 7 am (Seriously, was it Wednesday?). Therese was still adjusting to the bright lights in her eyes. Her mind buzzed and crinkled. Everything seemed to take a moment too long to come into focus.

“Ok, um… why?” She mumbled into the phone.

The voice on the other end was not happy. “Because the patient had chest pain. What do you think, I just did it for my own amusement?”

Therese’s head suddenly cleared, the chastising voice cutting through the fog of her sleep-deprived mind. “I’ll be right up. What room number?” She jotted it down on a blank slip of paper and hung up the phone.

She pulled herself together and shrugged her white coat over her shoulders, covering up her wrinkled scrub top. She jammed her pen and stethoscope into the oversize pocket and grabbed another can of iced coffee from the residents’ shared fridge.

She couldn’t help but sigh. It wasn’t just the long hours - she felt the monotony of these tasks starting to wear at her brain. She knew the chances of this call amounting to anything exciting were slim to none. She yearned for the thrill she felt when she first started her intern year almost nine months ago. Everything felt boring now. She really only liked working nights covering the medical wards when a Code Blue was called. Now _that_ was exciting. A Code Blue is the only thing that makes a doctor sprint, meaning a patient is in cardiac or respiratory arrest, or close to it. A consult in the middle of the night for something like chest pain or appendicitis requires merely a slow walk, and it wouldn’t be considered out of the question to stop for a cup of coffee on the way while bloodwork and other data are being gathered. If someone suspects a new stroke, the resident will probably walk briskly to the ER. But at a code, _everyone_ shows up at least a little out of breath. Therese was taught that showing up out of breath was ok, because it is better to let people think the hyperventilation is from poor physical fitness and not panic.

~***~

Therese stifled a yawn as she exited the patient room and went to find the nurse who had rudely awakened her. The nurse was an obese woman with poorly groomed hair. She was wearing a scrub top with roses on it, and she smelled vaguely of french fries. She looked much more jolly in person than her phone persona suggested. Therese glanced down at her name tag. “I’m sorry if I was short on the phone, Sandy,” she said.  

Sandy offered a grunt in response and handed Therese the EKG. Therese took it and studied it critically. As suspected, there were no changes suspicious of cardiac causes of chest pain. She went through the entire interpretation algorithm in her head though, just to be safe. She was still terrified of missing something serious and she was too green to trust her instincts without a healthy level of suspicion.

“The EKG is fine,” Therese stated with a confidence she didn’t really possess. “I’ll follow up on the blood work, but I’m pretty sure this is just heartburn.”

Sandy gave Therese a quizzical look as if to say: “I’ve been doing this for 40 years, and you’ve been here eight months. What do you know.?” Therese knew that look.

Therese was tiring of being second-guessed. It was way too early (or too late) for this shit. “Look, I know it’s not the typical presentation for reflux, but it makes sense with his symptoms. He really doesn’t have any risk factors for coronary disease.” Sandy nodded meekly as Therese continued. “I’ll put in orders for some medications to help settle his stomach and we will see how it goes.” Sandy rolled her eyes and walked away.

~***~

Therese was weary when she finally walked back into the residents’ lounge. She had fielded three more calls since her run-in with Sandy. The patient with chest pain had normal labs, as predicted, and he felt much better after the cocktail of meds Therese had ordered. She chuckled to herself. That could have gone much more smoothly if she wasn’t questioned every step of the way.

She sighed deeply as she collapsed once more into the faux leather chair. Dannie, one of her co-interns, was snoring on the couch next to her. He woke with a snort when he heard her sit down. With eyes still closed, he immediately and instinctively reached for his pager.

Therese laughed out loud when she saw the other side of his head. Clumps of his hair were sticking up in three different awkward angles. “Your pager didn’t even go off and you’re still a hot mess, Dannie,” she quipped.

“Shut up, Therese,” he said, his voice more whiny than a 27 year-old man’s should be. He blindly fumbled for his coffee cup on the center table. “Hey, where did my coffee go?” His voice sounded more masculine and indignant now that missing coffee was involved.

“Oh, that would be in my socks. You should feel free to wring it out and drink it if you’d like,” Therese joked.

“Don’t laugh. There were days when I was in the Intensive Care Unit last month that I definitely would have taken you up on that offer.” Dannie was stone-cold serious and it made Therese laugh even harder.  

“I’m so jealous you got to do your ICU rotation before me,” Therese whined. She truly _was_ jealous. She had been eagerly awaiting her critical care month since the beginning of the year. _That’s_ where the excitement happens - life and death. She wasn’t deterred by any of the rumors she had heard about the longer hours and strain most interns felt during the rotation - she couldn’t _wait_ for it.

Dannie was staring at her with a disgusted look on his face. “That’s literally the stupidest thing you’ve ever said to me, T, and I’ve known you since we were in middle school, and you said stupid shit all the time.”

Therese laughed out loud again. “I’m serious, Dannie. I can’t wait. I think I’ll actually be good at it. I mean… if I can overcome my tendency to be shy and hold back my opinions during rounds.”

“You _will_ be good at it. You’re good at everything. I’ve seen you at codes, too. You’re so calm and collected when someone is literally dying right in front of you. That’s basically all the ICU is, all the time.” Dannie said. “And once you get over the feeling that you’re going to piss your pants while you’re being questioned during rounds, you actually do learn a lot in a short amount of time. Most of the patients there are fascinating and complex -  just your style, T.”

Therese was more contemplative now. She realized she also had a healthy bit of trepidation about it. She was very shy. She didn’t do well when being questioned pointedly and directly -  “pimped,” as they call it, on rounds. She tended to freeze up, unable to offer a coherent sentence, let alone an actual, thoughtful assessment of the patient. And she was sort of horrified at the prospect of interacting with the attending physicians in the ICU, who may as well be gods as far as Therese was concerned.

“How are the attendings, really?” She asked. “I mean, are they as intimidating in person as the gossip would suggest?” She tried to sound nonchalant, but there was little chance of coming off that way. Dannie knew her too well.

“Most of them are really great, really approachable,” Dannie offered. “For the most part, they’re all jokesters and really easy to get along with. They are patient with you while you learn the procedures, too… which was good for me because as you know, I don’t have great hands.”

Therese smiled when she thought back to gross anatomy lab in medical school. Dannie’s hands trembled when he made the first incisions into dead flesh, so she could only imagine what he looked like taking a needle to a living person. “You keep saying things like ‘for the most part’ and ‘most of them,’” Therese said. “What are you not telling me? You may as well freak me out now so I have time to process it before I start next week.”

Dannie sighed. “Well, there’s Dr. Aird."

The way he said the name made Therese cringe before she even heard the rest of the prophetic story. She had heard the name before, but only in passing. She vaguely remembered something about Dr. Aird being scary, and how one of the interns had cried in front of her. That didn’t necessarily mean anything about Dr. Aird though, Therese thought. Some interns cried all the time. “Yeah…” she paused. “Tell me more about her.”

Dannie hesitated at first, unsure of the words to use. “It’s hard for me to describe. She’s intimidating, yes, but I also learned more from her in the week she was on service than from the other docs I worked with that month put together.”

This was high praise coming from Dannie. He didn’t like anyone, and he especially didn’t like people who made him feel stupid. He had to study more than most people in medical school, but he earned his spot here just like everyone else. Dr. Aird clearly had made an impression on him. “So, what’s so intimidating about her?” Therese asked.

“Honestly? I think people say that because she calls you out on your shit. She makes you think about your patients and she doesn’t treat you with kid gloves. When you make mistakes, she tells you - in front of the whole team. When you say something stupid, she will frankly tell you that you’re being stupid.” Therese’s eyes were wide and Dannie chuckled a little. “Don’t worry, T,” he said. “You hardly say anything at all, so it’s unlikely you’ll be the one to say something stupid.”

Therese knew he was just joking, but his statement hit her hard.  She desperately wanted to have the confidence to speak up assertively during rounds like some of the other interns she worked with. She was always fumbling when it came to words. The ideas were there. She had steady hands and knew she would have an affinity for procedures. Despite these areas of confidence, she felt literal nausea when she thought about rounds with Dr. Aird. She reached for her iced coffee only to find the can was empty.

Dannie hopped up and grabbed two more cans from the fridge. He opened them and handed one to Therese. “There is also the fact that she is literally one of the most gorgeous human beings I have ever seen,” he mumbled.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Therese chided.

“You’ll see. She’s so hot it’s intimidating in itself. Seriously, T.” His words seemed funny, but his face was anything but. He kept rambling. “I don’t understand how her hair and makeup are always perfect while she’s working in an ICU. She wears fucking _heels_ while she’s working, T. Can you believe that?”

Therese absolutely could _not_ believe that. She couldn’t wear heels during a casual social function, let alone at work, let alone in an intensive care unit. “Ok. That is intimidating. What the fuck.” She was starting to feel acid creep up the back of her throat, a fiery ball of anxiety.

“So you’re starting to see what I’m saying. But she’s like, the best with procedures, and she’ll teach you if you want to learn. But it’s essentially like learning from an actual superhero - a flawless, gorgeous superhero. Ok, so she’s basically Wonder Woman.”

Therese finally started to loosen up again and she chuckled. “Ok, ok, Dannie. I get it.” She sipped her coffee and her mind started to buzz again. Even though Dannie had framed Dr. Aird in a light of intimidation, she felt nothing but intrigue. Now it wasn’t just the ICU rotation she was eager for. Now she also couldn’t wait to meet Wonder Woman.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Therese had her white coat dry-cleaned and it felt chalky and stiff against her bare arms. She couldn’t afford the nicer coats made of softer fabric that all the other female interns were raving about, so she had stuck with her hospital-issued one. She was pretty sure it was made of some sort of flexible cardboard. She picked out her favorite, most comfortable set of scrubs for her first day in the ICU. It was sort of hard to pick because most scrubs were really comfortable. That was the beauty of the ICU rotation - you could wear scrubs every day.

She arrived at the hospital early. Ok, she arrived insanely early, an hour before her shift was supposed to begin. She was so nervous the night before that she had barely slept. She had her medical textbooks out, going over things, and she texted Dannie no less than a dozen times asking him various questions about what to expect, what books to read, how to prepare, etc. At one point he stopped responding to her texts and knocked on her door. He lived in an apartment building in the same complex. He was so sweet. He stayed with her and answered her ridiculous questions into the wee hours of the morning. That had only been a few hours ago now. 

Therese was sitting in the middle of the ICU in an area ringed by a circle of computers. From here, the doctors could see most of the ICU rooms fanned out around them, and there was a large bank of monitors in the center where the vital signs from each room were continually projected. She fumbled nervously in her white coat pocket for a collection of cards which she used as her peripheral brain, even though she had memorized their contents by heart. On them were different algorithms for protocols to use during cardiac arrest, as well as different medications and dosages to be utilized during all sorts of ICU emergencies. At this moment, though, Therese was interested in the very back card. On it, she had scrawled inspirational quotes. They were a sort of security blanket for her to return to when she felt stressed, or scared, or both. Therese had always been a bookworm and she took a fair bit of harassment from her co-interns about her nerd habits, this being one of them. 

As her heart slowed its frenzied beating in her chest, she started to notice the noises around her. The short, low-pitched beeps from the ventilators clashed with the high-pitched, frenzied sounds from the IV pumps, which were not at all in harmony with the mechanical cadence of the vitals monitors. Therese was a musician. She had spent most of her life studying piano, until medical school had eclipsed her time and her desire for any other passion. Something about the continuous, cacophonous noises in the ICU made her head spin. 

The night team would be finishing their shift shortly and then Therese would be on the clock. She noticed a drip of sweat trickle down the sleeve of her scrub top. She nervously glanced at the list of patients she kept in her pocket, next to her index cards. She had memorized nearly everything about them - except for their vitals, which changed every second. She knew what medications they were on, what their lab results showed, what tests, imaging, and surgeries they have had. She knew Dr. Aird wasn’t going to be on this week with the residents, but she had prepared for rounds as if she was. 

Suddenly, an alarm began to chirp that was much louder and insistent than the other ambient sounds. Therese’s head immediately snapped towards the direction of the alarms, her eyes wide. A frenzied-looking intern and only slightly less frenzied resident appeared suddenly from around the corner and rushed into the patient’s room. Therese scooted her chair slightly to the right to be able to peer in on the scene, leaning it back on two legs. The ventilator alarm was going off, and the vitals alarm followed quickly thereafter. The intern and resident crowded around the patient, checking for breath sounds. Their anxiety was palpable, Therese thought she could feel it leaking from the room. The nurse left the room with a strange look on her face. It seemed more like disgust than concern. She picked up the phone outside of the patient’s room and spoke a few words which Therese could not make out.

Moments later, Dr. Aird came around that same corner, and Therese nearly fell out of her chair. She slowly lowered the two chair legs which had been up in air to the ground, desperate to steady herself. Her body felt like it may float away. Dr. Aird glanced momentarily at the monitors while standing outside the door, and her lip curled up in a slight smirk - was it a smirk? What was happening? Therese’s heart was beating fast, the nervous sweat picking up pace to a slow trickle. Carol put a hand on the nurse’s shoulder while still outside the room, and they shared a moment of friendly conversation before Carol sauntered into the patient’s room. Yes. Sauntered was the only way to describe it. 

Therese had to lean her chair back again to catch the whole scene. Dr. Aird went silently to the ventilator and turned a few knobs, pressed a few buttons. The alarming stopped. The young doctors wheeled around quickly and saw her there. The resident started shaking his head and ran both hands through his sweaty hair in desperation. “Thank you,” he mouthed. That was all Therese could make out from her position. She wanted to go closer, to hear the whole conversation, but she felt glued to her seat. Dr. Aird motioned for the young physicians to join her at the bedside, and they all turned their backs to Therese. She couldn’t see what was happening. When they all exited the room minutes later, the intern still looked white as a sheet, but the resident was laughing jovially with Dr. Aird. Therese felt hot bile rise in her throat and she didn’t know why.

Therese finally allowed herself a moment to take in Dr. Aird. She must be working the night shift, Therese thought. She felt immensely relieved. She wasn’t ready to face her yet. Carol wore a pristine white coat which was clearly tailored to her tall frame, not a generic size meant to fit a large swath of people. Underneath, she wore scrubs of dark navy. The scrubs also fit her frame like a glove and weren’t too long nor too short, as is the case for every other human being who tries on scrubs (at least, in Therese’s limited experience). Therese noticed she didn’t have heels on as Dannie had mentioned. Maybe because it’s the night shift? Therese’s mind was racing. She felt more nervous after having simply caught a glance of this woman than she was for her first ICU shift as an intern. 

Therese watched as Carol shared another friendly exchange with the bedside nurse. Carol laughed, and for a brief moment, the sounds of the ICU died away to nothing. All Therese could hear was that deep chuckle reverberating through her bones like an earthquake. Therese watched as Carol thumbed a stray lock of blonde hair into place behind her ear. She watched as Carol removed her white coat and hung it on the back of a chair, her eyes tracking up Carol’s frame which was hidden but yet somehow accentuated in her couture scrubs. She watched as Carol pulled her hair into a ponytail, all while talking and laughing with the nurse. Therese was mesmerized. Carol disappeared into the patient’s room and pulled the curtain behind her. Therese immediately felt a loss and she had to shake her head to bring herself back to reality. 

~***~

It was close to 9 am and Therese was mentally preparing herself for rounds to begin with Dr. Sawyer. Luckily, Therese’s patients were pretty stable, as far as ICU patients go. She had shrugged off her co-interns when they asked her to grab a quick bite for breakfast before rounds. She wanted to go through her presentations one more time and make sure she was ready, even though she had heard Dr. Sawyer was really laid back and probably wouldn’t be paying much attention to her anyway. 

She wasn’t assigned to the patient that Dr. Aird and the night team had been fussing over a few hours ago. She was sort of bummed, but also sort of relieved. She didn’t want to be held responsible for a truly “sick” patient. She laughed at herself out loud. _ It’s the ICU, _ she thought.  _ They’re all sick as shit. _ Just as she was thinking about it, Phil walked by. He was her co-intern and Dannie’s brother. He had picked up the patient in bed 24 that Dr. Aird had been involved with overnight. 

“Hey, Phil,” she said. He stopped cold and turned to face her, an errant bit of protein shake coating his upper lip. Therese motioned for him to wipe it and he did so, embarrassed. She got to her point quickly, she knew everyone was busy. “So I heard you picked up the guy in 24. I was here this morning when it looked like shit hit the fan, is everything ok?” 

Phil looked at her incredulously. “Why do you care, T? Don’t you have your own patients to take care of?” 

Therese couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. He didn’t have the same easy-going demeanor as his brother. He looked frazzled. Therese figured he was just as nervous as she was for their first day, he was just expressing it in different ways. “I was just curious is all,” she said. “You don’t have to be a dick, Phil.” 

Phil shook his head in remorse. “I’m sorry, T. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. I’m just really nervous is all. And yeah, that guy is really sick. I hear Dr. Aird stayed after her night shift to put in a chest tube. I’m still not certain I have any idea what is wrong with him. It’s a giant cluster fuck. Why am I a doctor, again?” 

Therese chuckled but stood and put a calming hand on Phil’s shoulder. “None of us know what we are doing, Phil. It’s ok. We’ll figure it out.” Phil nodded, wiping more protein shake from his mouth. Therese continued. “I was here early this morning and saw the ventilator alarming and Dr. Aird going into the room. I wonder if he had a pneumothorax and that’s why he needed a chest tube. Maybe look into that angle?” 

Phil nodded vigorously. “Thanks, T.” He started to walk away and then turned back to her. “And I am sorry I snapped at you. We all gotta stick together this month, eh?” 

Therese smiled and nodded. “Sure. Yeah. It’s ok, Phil.” She turned back to her computer and resumed memorizing her presentations. 

~***~

The day was dying down. The night team would be in soon to take over. Therese was just finishing a packet of peanut butter crackers since she realized she hadn’t eaten anything all day. It was a great first day. None of her patients had tried to die. She made it through rounds without tripping over her own words. She successfully avoided doing any procedures. She wanted to do procedures, but she wasn’t sure day one was the best time to start. 

But… she hadn’t stood up for herself when she wanted to. Dr. Sawyer had asked several questions to the group and Therese knew the answers, but she was too afraid to speak in the group setting. Dr. Sawyer was a weird little man. She couldn’t read him. He seemed like one of those people who was too smart for his own good. He was clearly better with patients on ventilators who couldn’t speak than he was with human interactions. She saw the light in his eyes when he had asked some of the more difficult questions, and then watched that light die when none of her colleagues could answer.  _ Tomorrow is another day _ , she thought to herself. Maybe tomorrow she would speak up. 

She was sitting by herself at one of the nurses stations, taking in a moment of peace before she gave her sign-out report to the night team. She felt a light tap on her shoulder and spun around quickly, much more startled than one ought to be by being tapped on the shoulder. It was Dr. Aird. Her hair was down again, and this time she wore scrubs of a dark, rich burgundy. She didn’t have a white coat on. She didn’t even have makeup on… or did she? Therese couldn’t tell. Up close, it looked like her face was chiseled out of fine marble. 

“I’m sorry to startle you,” Carol said. Her voice was deep, like her laugh, and Therese felt it warm her. She felt it trickle through her like a sip of fine whiskey. 

“It’s, it’s ok,” Therese stammered. “I’m just jumpy. First day and all.” Therese expected Carol to smile or laugh at that. She didn’t. She just narrowed her eyes and inspected Therese carefully. 

“I think these may be yours,” Carol said. She handed Therese her worn notecards, which were bound together by threadbare string. Therese looked at them with warmth and awe. She had misplaced them early this morning. All day long she had been patting the pockets of her white coat, hoping they would miraculously re-appear. Around 1pm she had given up hope. She had solace in the thought that everything could be reprinted, and the quotes…well. She knew those by heart. 

“Thank you so much,” Therese stammered. She looked down, avoiding eye contact. Something about Carol’s gaze seemed to penetrate through her and she felt exposed, even though she had divulged little. 

“You’re very welcome,” Carol replied, and walked away. Therese felt her jaw drop slightly as she watched Carol’s calves tighten with each step, watched her hips undulate with her easy gait. Therese was unabashedly watching her walk away when Carol abruptly stopped and turned back to face her. “I like the quotes,” She whispered with a wink, before turning away again. 

Therese quickly skimmed to the back page of the notecards, hoping she hadn’t written anything embarrassing on there. At the bottom, scrawled in impeccable handwriting, was a new addition to her collection:

> “To become comfortable with uncertainty is one of the primary goals in the training of a physician.” 
> 
> ~ Sherwin B. Nuland 

Therese smiled as she tucked the notecards back into her pocket. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! Thanks for coming back! I just wanted to let you all know - my life is a bit busier now than during the bulk of the time I was writing "There is Always a Cost." Just know that I adore this story, I have big plans for it, and I won't abandon it. Be patient with me ;) Thanks in advance, as always, for your lovely thoughts.

**Chapter 3**

 

> _ “Coffee should be black as hell, strong as death, and sweet as love.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Turkish Proverb _
> 
>  
> 
> _ “The life so short, the craft so long to learn.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Hippocrates  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ “A doctor should be a clown at heart, a scientist at brain, and a mother at conscience.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Abhijit Naskar  _

~***~

Carol shifted her weight back and forth from one tired foot to the other, occasionally scratching the back of her calf with a pointed heel. “I didn’t even bother to ask if you wanted the usual, Dr. Aird.” Carol’s eyes snapped up as if she had just realized where she was - standing at the coffee cart near the hospital cafeteria. She made eye contact with the dreadlocked boy who usually made her coffee.

“Actually… put an extra shot in there this time, Charlie.” Carol’s voice came out like an exhale, her tone deep with a harsh edge, like an old smoker. 

“It already has three, Dr. Aird. Are you sure?” Charlie was skeptical. 

“I’m sure. It’s been… a day.” 

Charlie laughed. Carol finally looked up and met his eyes and he almost toppled over, so piercing and blue was her gaze in his direction. “What’s so funny, mister?” She asked. 

“Nothing,” he said, pouring the last bit of foam in a perimeter around Carol’s signature travel mug. “It’s just that it’s only 10:30, doc. Only in the ICU could you say it has already ‘been a day.’” 

Carol took the cup from him and immediately put her lips to the lid and drank. She had become resistant to the searing heat years ago. She let out a big sigh and jumped as she felt a hand fall gently on her shoulder.

“That stuff will kill you, you know.” Carol turned to see her best friend Abby’s smiling face. 

“It’s not polite to startle someone when they have a hot beverage, dear Abigail.” 

“Oh, hush. You just drank it. You’re fine. I mean, you’re not fine - we probably should get you back to the unit and get you on the cardiac monitors to capture your inevitable arrhythmia. But other than that, you’re fine.” 

“So, so fine,” Charlie mumbled under his breath. Carol would never be paying close enough attention to hear him, but Abby did, and she shot him a death glare over the top of her glasses. He cowered and went back to cleaning the metal coffee canisters. 

Abby used the hand on Carol’s shoulder to guide her gently away from the coffee cart. Carol followed her lead, mindlessly. They began the lengthy walk back towards the ICU. “Don’t you have patients to take care of, instead of chastising me during my one moment of solace in this hellish morning?” 

Abby laughed. “I could ask the same about you, dear.” Abby grabbed Carol’s coffee mug as they walked and took a careful sip, then made a face. “Jesus Christ, Carol. I don’t know how you drink that stuff. It tastes like rocket fuel.” 

Carol scowled at her. “Have you tasted rocket fuel? Because it must be  _ delicious _ . As for my patients… I’m sure the residents have it all under control.” 

Abby glared at her. “Have you met this month’s batch of residents yet? They’re hopeless. It’s like herding cats.” 

Carol smiled and sipped her rocket fuel. “This is why we rely so heavily on the nurses to teach them during this delicate time at the beginning of the month. You can probably answer most of their questions better than I can.”  

“I don’t want to answer their questions,” Abby whined. “I want to smack them.”

“It can’t be that bad,” Carol said, softly. “Please, tell me it’s not that bad because I start working directly with them in a few days, and I’m already exhausted before I’ve begun.”

Abby chuckled. “It’s no worse than usual. I’m just messing with you. All the archetypes are there. You have the rotating orthopedic surgery resident who thinks he knows everything there is to know about medicine but is really dumb as a box of rocks. You have the socially awkward male medicine intern who seems to manage to always have his hair sticking up at odd angles. Like, does he ever look in a mirror?” Carol laughed. Abby kept up her tirade. “There’s a OB/GYN intern who is one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever seen. Seriously, Carol - her hair looks like it was woven from gold twine.” 

Carol laughed out loud now and looked her friend directly in the eye as she pressed the button for the elevator. “Down, girl,” she said, an air in her voice. 

Abby cuffed her on the shoulder. “What’s your deal, Carol? It’s attendings that are forbidden from dalliances with the residents, not nurses.” 

Carol bowed her head. “I know, I know. Just be careful, is all. You know I’m just looking out for you. These residents… they’re going through a crazy time in their lives and it often means they treat others like pawns. I just don’t want to see you be a pawn again, Abby.” 

Abby was silent for a moment. The elevator chime rang and a mechanical voice oriented them to which floor they were on and admonished them to watch their step. Carol’s blossoming questions were burning a hole in her skull, the noise of them like a tea kettle about to whine against her ears. “The brunette,” Carol started. She halted, the words like marbles in her mouth. “The quiet one. What’s the recon on her?” She tried to act nonchalant as she sipped her coffee. 

“She’s really smart, I think,” Abby said. But of course you’d never know it. She never says anything. That’s part of making a good ICU resident, you know. She needs to learn to stand on her own two feet and voice her opinion, or everyone is going to walk all over her.” Carol nodded, hoping Abby would elaborate, but she didn’t. They fell into another comfortable silence as Abby swiped her badge and the double doors to the ICU opened with a whoosh and the cacophonous noise spilled out like a deluge. 

Carol’s eyes immediately scanned the unit out of habit. She noticed where the residents were gathered. She noticed which alarms were chirping and which were silent. A quick glance at the bank of monitors showed her which patients were stable and which were not. Out of the corner of her eye she watched Phil put an EKG up to his face and study it carefully. Her lip turned up in a slight smirk. She looked around for Therese, but didn’t see her. 

“I’m bored,” Carol said suddenly. Abby was just shrugging off her jacket and settling in to her station near her assigned patient rooms. She looked at Carol and shook her head, a smirk coming over her face as well.

“Oh no,” Abby said, her grin expanding into a full-blown smile. 

“What? Oh no?” Carol cuffed her on the shoulder as she drowned the last sip of her coffee.

“I just know what this means,” Abby said. “It means some poor resident is going to have to face your wrath. Probably an intern. Probably that one with the hair thing. Dear god, let it be the guy with the hair thing!”

Carol laughed. “I take offense to your theory that I mess with the residents for my own amusement, Abby!” She smiled, playfully. “I only want them to learn.” 

Abby shook her head, her grin still widening. “Oh, was it for learnings sake last month when you asked that blonde boy a question to which he clearly did not know the answer, and you stood in silence a full six minutes while he literally squirmed like a caged animal before running away in tears? Was that for learning, or were you just bored?” 

Carol just smiled. “That was different. I was proving a point. He clearly didn’t know the answer, and he should have just said so. No point in wasting everyone’s time. And how do you know it was six minutes?” 

“Oh. Because I absolutely pulled out my phone and started a timer,” Abby said. “It was fucking hilarious.” 

Carol’s gaze darkened, like cloud cover slipping onto the horizon. Abby straightened her back and her smile dissolved. “What is it, Carol?” She asked. 

“I do want them to learn, you know,” Carol said. Her eyes had glossed over and Abby tried to follow her line of sight, like a bloodhound following its owner to collect the kill. In the corner of the unit, Abby saw the young brunette had wandered into a room and was diligently examining a patient. Abby looked at Carol and saw her eyes had narrowed into grim focus. 

“I know you do, Carol,” Abby said, quietly. She placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder. “You’re the best teacher of them all.”

Carol shook her head, trying to clear the brunette from her vision, from her mind. It was unusual for a resident to have this sort of effect on her, especially an intern. Especially a quiet intern. She didn’t know exactly what this effect was, either. She felt an odd urge to put her arms around Therese and hold her tight, and then to pull out all the knowledge that was lurking there - just below the surface. She knew it was there. She could feel it boiling, ready to spill over. She could see it in the brunette’s eyes as she scanned through CT images. She could see her own self reflected in those eyes. She suddenly felt like she wanted to drown in those eyes. She shook her head again. What was happening? It must be the boredom. 

“Carol, are you ok?” Abby’s voice was soft, subtle. 

“I’m fine,” Carol whispered. “I am just…restless again, I suppose. I need to get out. I need to travel. Harge has his newest boy toy. He has always been useless in bed, but now he’s also useless for good conversation.” 

Abby shook her head. “You know I don’t fully understand your whole situation with Harge. I mean - I get that it made sense for you two to marry a dozen or so years ago but the dude is clearly gay and I’m sorry, but… Carol - so are you.” Carol was silent and Abby started to backpedal. “I don’t mean to overstep, but… come on.” 

“I know,” Carol said, simply. “But he’s a good person, Abby. And he’s an orthopedic surgeon. Talk about the biggest boys club of them all. I like that I can help him by being the pretty woman on his arm at events from time to time. He has always done the same for me. And look at what I don’t have to deal with because of him, too. Fucking Charlie the coffee boy is just the tip of the iceberg.” 

Abby choked on her water. “You heard him, huh?” She asked. 

“Yeah. He’s not exactly subtle. I like being able to move about in this hospital without being seen as an object waiting to be taken. I know how people look at me. But, with Harge, at least it’s tempered. At least there is still an illusion that I’m spoken for and it’s not ok to cat call or make silly jokes. I dress the way I do because I am proud of my profession and I choose to dress nicely. I don’t dress like a slut; I just dress nicely. And somehow that is seen as a joke to all of these residents whom I work so hard to impress. Yes. You heard me. I work to impress  _ them. _ They’re the future of this profession.” 

Abby bowed her head in silence. She desperately wanted Carol to continue. It was rare for Carol to open up like this. 

“I do it for her,” Carol gestured towards Therese, who was still bent over a patient, adjusting a central line catheter. “I want brilliant minds like her to know that it’s ok to be a woman in this profession, and not only that, to be a woman in  _ this _ field. And not only is it ok… it’s awesome. I want her to be proud. I want her to be able to dress the way she wants without fear of being judged or harassed. If she wants to wear scrubs, so be it. But if she wants to wear Louboutin heels with a short-ass skirt - she should do that! If she wants to open a general Internal Medicine outpatient practice when she is done with her residency here, great.  _ But… _ if she wants to be an Intensivist, I want to show her that she can.” 

Carol was sweating. Abby noticed a drip come down her brow and mingle in her perfect hairline. Carol noticed the drip at the same time and swatted it from her brow like a fly. “I am bored, yes. Because these patients… it’s all the same. We will try the same things, and as you well know, Abby - they may live and they may die. We’re going to try all the same. I’m bored without a legacy. I want… I want to be more than a tally of the patients I’ve saved.” Carol faltered, a hand went to her mouth. 

Abby was speechless. This was new territory for Carol, for their friendship. She put her hand back on Carol’s shoulder, the same familiar, comforting pose. “Well. Why don’t you start by getting that one to talk?” She pointed at Therese, who had just dropped something into her sterile field and was cursing behind her mask. They both chuckled as they watched her work through it. 

Carol smiled. “I plan on it,” she said. 

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers - I'm so sorry I have yet to respond to my comments from last chapter, but I figured you'd rather have this first and let me deal with comments later. I have so appreciated your kind words about this new story, and I hope you continue to enjoy it. We are starting to really learn who these women are, and I can't wait to show you what I have planned for them ;)

**Chapter 4**

> “I shut my eyes, and the music broke over me like a rainstorm.”
> 
> ~ Sylvia Plath
> 
>  
> 
> “The fear of being laughed at makes cowards of us all.”
> 
> ~ Mignon McLaughlin
> 
>  
> 
> “The way to develop self-confidence is to do the thing you fear and get a record of successful experiences behind you.”
> 
> ~ William Jennings Bryan

~***~

Therese squinted at her computer screen. The numbers were doing that thing where they became blurry and oozed together. It had been happening more frequently. It felt vaguely like she was witnessing her own mind being sucked into a black hole. Laboratory values came in and out of view and she allowed herself a brief moment to close her eyes and refocus. The hours she was working would be bad enough on their own, but then she went home to crippling insomnia that cut her already precious sleep time in half. To make matters worse, today was the first day of rounding with Dr. Aird. She felt the anticipation like acid creeping up her throat and she swallowed hard.

She arched her neck and tried to glance out the window behind the nurses station. She hadn’t been out during the daylight since she started her rotation. She missed the sun on her face, even if it was cold outside. She closed her eyes again and moved her hands back onto the table. She allowed her fingers to drift over imaginary piano keys. She allowed the chimes and alarms of the ICU to fade away and forced herself to hear music underneath. She stretched her neck as her fingers ghosted the phantom keys, and she took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, Carol Aird was standing before her with a smirk on her beautiful face. Therese squinted again, as if Carol was just a mirage.

“You play beautifully,” Carol said, breaking a moment of silence after she allowed Therese to stare at her, the brunette’s mouth slightly agape, her eyes bleary and unfocused.  

Therese blushed and let out a slight chuckle. Her eyes cleared and Carol saw them plainly in the harsh fluorescent lights. They were emerald green, piercing.  “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you would be here so early, Dr. Aird,” she said.

Therese felt the heat in her cheeks wander somewhere decidedly south when Carol came around the table and placed a hand on her shoulder. Suddenly, all the alarms from the ICU faded away to silence again - this time without thoughts of Bach needed to dispel them. She took a deep breath.

“I like to come in and get a feel for the patients on my first day of rounding. Before I’m subjected to your opinion about them, I’d like to have my own,” Carol said.

Therese thought there must be an insult in there somewhere, but she couldn’t pinpoint it. “There are some really sick ones, that’s for sure,” Therese stammered. The instant it left her mouth, she regretted it. Her inner critic chastised herself immediately: _Of course there are sick people here, you dummy. It’s the ICU._

Carol just smiled and removed her hand from Therese’s shoulder. Therese felt the loss like a parachute cord being ripped away, letting loose a barrel of butterflies in her stomach. Carol glanced at the open chart on Therese’s computer. “Hmm. I was just going over her chart myself. This should be an interesting case to present on rounds.”

Therese shook her head sadly. “She’s not getting better.” Again, a statement of clear fact that seemed misplaced and childlike when she heard it turn over in her own ears.

Carol’s upper lip turned up into a smirk. It was a unique gesture, and Therese had no idea what it meant. “I see that,” Carol said. “We can discuss it on rounds. Maybe you can give us the answer we’re looking for.” With that, Carol turned and walked away.

Therese felt her throat get hot and her mouth start to water. She felt such a cacophony of emotions she couldn’t place any single one of them. She refocused her mind on the case in front of her. She opened all the CT images once again on her computer and tried to find the hidden morsel everyone had been missing. _Why wasn’t she getting better?_ Her focus had returned and she furrowed her brow in intense concentration.

Carol walked to the mystery patient’s room and stood just inside the door. She looked at the monitors. She looked at the ventilator. She looked at the patient. She stood there in silence for a few moments, her mind taking in all inputs and making clear calculations. Luckily, Abby was the nurse assigned to the patient. Carol knew Abby would be vigilant, careful. The patient was a 36-year-old previously-healthy young woman who was now dying before their eyes. Abby wandered into the room behind Carol and silently watched her assess the situation. Carol walked to the bedside and removed her stethoscope from her pocket. She listened carefully to the patient’s heart and lungs, then she turned around and looked at Abby.

Abby shook her head sadly. “I’ve had to increase her vasopressors because her blood pressure keeps tanking. Two different respiratory therapists have been in here at least a half a dozen times overnight, addressing her ventilator issues. She’s still not oxygenating.”

Carol took in the information without surprise. She discarded her gloves and washed her hands, then motioned for Abby to meet her outside the room. Carol was logging on to the computer right outside the patient’s room and Abby took that opportunity to steal a sip of rocket fuel coffee from Carol’s mug.

“I saw that, Abigail.” Carol said. “I thought you said my coffee tasted like shit.”

Abby blushed. “It does,” she said. “But you were right. Damn, that shit keeps you going.”

Carol smiled and took the mug back from Abby, warming her hands against the outside. Carol was always cold, but winter nearly crippled her.

“I’m going to put some orders in to change things up in here,” Carol said, nodding her head towards the patient room they had just exited. “Let’s get the new plan executed right away, because I don’t think she can afford to wait. But, during rounds let’s pretend I haven’t changed anything yet, and see if the residents can figure out the right course of action on their own.” Carol grinned, that characteristic smirk coloring her whole face.

Abby beamed. “Of course, boss,” she replied. “This should be fun.” She started to walk away to retrieve the new medications Carol had ordered, but when she made eye contact with the blonde, the look on Carol’s face stopped her cold. Carol had a contemplative gleam in her eye, but there was also sadness there. It was a look that Abby hadn’t seen Carol display since Genevieve left town. It was a look that stirred such a strong feeling of deja vu in Abby that she felt physical nausea as a repercussion. “Carol, what is it?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper, nearly swallowed in ambient sound.

Carol shook her head, and just like that the look in her eye was gone. “Oh, nothing,” she brushed Abby off. “I was just thinking about my strategy for running rounds today. I don’t have a lot of fight in me,” she said, solemnly. “My fuse is short. These residents better have their shit together. I would ordinarily spend a lot of time on the first day making them feel relentless discomfort… but I’m also tired, and I don’t want to round all day.”

Abby chuckled and went back to her task, but as she was walking away she caught a glimpse of Therese, who was clearly in Carol’s line of sight. The young brunette was squinting at her computer screen with determined concentration. She had one hand on her face, her fingers nervously tugging at her own earlobe. Abby’s mind quickly reeled back to her recent conversation with Carol. Carol had brought up the brunette when they were discussing the new batch of residents. Carol had specifically asked about her. Abby sucked in a huge breath as she made the connection in her mind. _Dear god,_ she thought. _Please, let this girl be an idiot._

~***~

Carol switched her weight from one leg to the other. A knot had settled it’s way into her low back. She tried to focus her mind on Phil, who was desperately trying to present a rather complicated patient. Well, on the surface it would seem complicated. In Carol’s mind the diagnosis and treatment plan took all of 30 seconds to work its way to fruition, but she was waiting patiently for Phil to explain it himself.

Carol had mastered the ability of allowing her eyes to focus intently on someone while her brain was somewhere else entirely. Phil was literally sweating. She saw a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face into his hairline, activating a twitch in his ear. His mouth was moving, but Carol’s mind was internet shopping. She allowed it to go on for some time, and then she tapped back into the moment like a flick of a switch.

“… and so I definitely think we can de-escalate the antibiotics,” Phil said. Carol noticed with a cringe that his voice squeaked a bit at the end of each sentence, like he was still going through puberty.

Carol nodded. “I agree,” she said. She did. That was already part of her plan. She yawned, and then cut Phill off when he started talking again. “I think we’ve about skinned this cat, Phil.” She nodded towards the nurse. “If Ally doesn’t have any more questions from a nursing standpoint, I think we can move on.” The other residents and medical students shuffled their feet nervously.

Therese gulped. Her patient was next - her mystery patient. _Except…_ she thought _maybe it wasn’t a mystery anymore._ The thought had come to her all at once, like an epiphany - like it was shot down into her brain by lightning. She was in equal parts excited and terrified to share her theory with Dr. Aird. She had a script prepared in her mind. She was ready. Well, she was as ready as she would ever be. Therese didn’t have a single self-confident bone in her whole body, so rounds were always a challenge for her. Carol Aird being the attending physician made everything seem a billion times harder still.

Therese had spent the first part of rounds trying to silence a ringing in her ears that manifested every time Carol spoke. A sharp headache had nestled its way behind her left eye, and her brain reeled from too much caffeine on not enough sleep - a feeling which was quickly becoming her new baseline of existence. She couldn’t peel her eyes away from Carol. Everything about the woman was memorizing. Therese was fascinated by her hair, by her deep blue eyes. She was fascinated by the way she smirked - how her lip turned up at the left corner in precisely the same way every time. But most of all, Therese was fascinated by Carol’s mind. Carol explained things in a way that clicked in Therese’s sponge of a brain like no other teachings ever had. She had already learned more about critical care medicine in the last 40 minutes than she had learned in the entirety of her intern year thus far.

Suddenly, Therese was talking. Thankfully, her subconscious brain had taken over for the hopeless conscious part. She was ratting off vital signs and lab results in a routine manner that was now part of every intern’s reflexive repertoire. Suddenly, Carol interrupted her with a deliberate cough and Therese’s sputtering litany came to a halt, the sounds of screeching tires manifesting in the young doctor’s mind.

“Yes, Dr. Belivet. We are all aware of all these numbers that have been slowly and steadily getting worse for nearly 36 hours.” Carol glanced at her watch, her disgust visible to anyone within a ten meter radius. “I just told you before rounds that I had familiarized myself with her chart. Spare us the blabbering, please.” Carol flicked her eyes up from her computer screen as she finished her directive to Therese: “Tell me what you want to _do_.”

“Well, uh…” Therese felt her heart shrink like a freezing ball of ice; felt her stomach elevate, retreating into her throat. Her voice collapsed, all the air escaping from her chest in a sigh.

Carol felt her heart drop. Therese wasn’t going to be able to do it. Carol had debated how to approach Therese for the first time, as a teacher. She sensed that Therese needed to be challenged, to be forced to come out of her shell, but Carol suddenly feared she may have overshot and shut her down completely. Just when she was about to give up on the moment of silence, about to call Therese’s defeat, those fierce green eyes rose to meet hers. Carol saw determination there as clearly as if she was seeing a physical, tangible thing.

“I think she has a PE,” Therese said. Her voice was low, forced. Carol’s heart skipped a beat. Abby peeked her head around the doorway in surprise. Carol had to force herself to remain calm, cool. She forced herself to probe further.

“A pulmonary embolism. Interesting theory, Dr. Belivet. What led you to this diagnosis?” Carol felt her face tighten as she held back her grin, which would ordinarily be manifesting like the cheshire cat. Therese was right.

Therese mechanically jolted into her explanation, which was clearly rehearsed, but Carol didn’t care. Everything that came out of her mouth hit the nail right on the head. Carol listened, and it felt as though she was listening to her own thought process from earlier on rewind. She didn’t want to back down though, she wanted Therese to finish strong, and there were clearly parts of the story that didn’t fit, or the attending working before Carol would have caught it. “What about the negative CT angiogram of the chest that she had earlier in the admission?” Carol asked, her voice deliberate. She was avoiding eye contact now though, as she suddenly felt the tables were turned and Therese was staring _her_ down.

“The CTA was before she even came to the ICU,” Therese explained. “And no one did ultrasounds of her legs. She could have had a clot there and then it embolized _after_ the CTA was already done.” Carol let a brief silence hang in the air, waiting for Therese to become uncomfortable, waiting for her to give her final reasoning. Therese didn’t hesitate this time, and when she concluded, she did so in her own, natural voice. “It’s the only thing I can think of that explains her blood pressure issues as well as her oxygenation when her pneumonia is getting better, not worse,” she said.  

Carol couldn’t hold back any longer. Her grin erupted and colored every inch of her face. She had been right about this girl. “Well. This morning, I came to the same conclusion during my pre-rounds,” Carol said. “And I have already instructed Abby to start the patient on anticoagulation. Why don’t you order another CTA, doctor, and we’ll confirm our theory?”

Therese finally allowed herself to make eye contact with Carol again, and when their eyes met both women felt warmth tingle down their spines. Then, Carol winked at her, and Therese felt her whole body clench. Therese’s mind had gone blank the moment Carol said “our theory.” She froze when she saw Carol smile. It wasn’t Carol’s usual smirk, the look that carried its own disdain. This was a _smile_ , this was a grin. _Our theory_ … Therese repeated the phrase in her mind.

Abby watched the whole thing unfold from her position standing behind Therese. She watched her best friend’s whole face transform as the young woman laid out her theory. She watched Carol wink at Therese, and her stomach dropped.  

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all my kind and generous readers for your patience and for your kind thoughts and comments both here and via email. You're all appreciated so very much. I hope you enjoy this chapter ;)

**Chapter 5**

 

> _“If I am really a part of your dream, you'll come back one day.”_
> 
> ~ Paulo Coelho
> 
>  
> 
> _“She was intelligent, and confident, too, as if she were able to move through life on her own terms... These were the things that really mattered. Without them, beauty was nothing.”_
> 
> ~ Nicholas Sparks

~***~

Carol was making last minute rounds on her sickest patients before leaving for the night. She hadn’t seen Therese all afternoon. She peeked her head into the resident work area and several medical students sat up quickly, fumbling their phones into their pockets upon seeing her at the doorway. “Have any of you seen Dr. Belivet?” Carol tried to sound nonchalant.

The pimply-faced medical student spoke quickest. Carol hadn’t yet bothered to learn any of their names. “She’s helping Phil with a procedure in bed 9, Dr. Aird. Can we help you with anything?”

Carol didn’t answer or even acknowledge the question; she just walked out. She meandered toward room 9 and positioned herself behind the curtain. She could hear Therese giving succinct, perfect instruction to Phil as she imagined him struggling with the procedure. How was Therese so technically proficient, as an intern, that she was already helping teach others? Carol looked around for the upper-level resident who was required to be in the room any time an intern was doing a procedure. She spotted him in the back of the patient’s room leaning against the sink and looking at his phone. Clearly he had no qualms about letting Therese take the lead.

“You’re holding it wrong,” Therese said.

“What?” Phil sounded exasperated.

“The needle. You’re holding it wrong. Here, let me show you.”

Carol’s heart fluttered and skipped a beat. Her mind was suddenly in the same room, but five years earlier. She sat down and rubbed her temples, allowing the memory to wash over her.

~***~

_“You’re holding it wrong.”_

_“Excuse me?” Carol’s head flew up and she felt her cheeks blush under her mask_

_“The probe. You’re holding it wrong. You’re never going to see anything that way. Here, let me show you.” The shorter brunette walked to the other side of the room and grabbed a pair of gloves from the cart. Carol just stared at her. Who was this mystery woman? Why was she in the ICU in the middle of the night? She certainly wasn’t a resident. Carol would have recognized her._

_Everything about this woman screamed assertiveness and authority. She wore black tailored scrubs and her jet black hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. She donned a mask and joined Carol at the bedside. Carol was flustered; she felt as if the shorter woman must have felt her embarrassment radiating off her body like fever heat._

_“I’m Genevieve Cantrell,” the brunette said. “Cardiology.”_

_Carol nodded. Now she was definitely embarrassed. She was trying to do a bedside echocardiogram to work on her ultrasound skills, something she felt deficient in. The last thing she wanted to do was perform in front of a Cardiologist, who is trained to do echocardiograms for a living. She felt frozen in place as she waited for instruction._

_Genevieve didn’t give instruction. Instead, she placed her gloved hand atop Carol’s. The blonde felt instantly sweaty, like she was a student again. But no teacher had ever done this to her before. Genevieve guided her through the exam, showing her tricks to obtain the best windows of view. Carol tried to focus, but she couldn’t shake an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach. This woman smelled of vanilla and something slightly spicier, perhaps cinnamon. And she was fucking smart. There wasn’t anything hotter in the whole world, in Carol’s mind, than a woman with brains to match her own._

_The two women disposed of their gloves and exited the patient room. Carol shook her blond locks down from her makeshift bun and noticed Genevieve staring._

_“You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen on a human being,” Genevieve said._

_Carol laughed. “Thank you. And thank you for the tips. That was very helpful. I’m sorry, Dr. Cantrell, I didn’t realize we had a new Cardiologist on staff.”_

_“Please, call me Gen. I just started a week ago. I was actually up here seeing a consult one of your residents called in. I’m happy to meet you in person. I’ve heard a lot about you.”_

_“All terrible, I assume,” Carol said. She cast her eyes down at the ground. For some reason she didn’t want to disappoint this woman, even though she was her equal. She still felt her heart fluttering in her chest like a resident who was just scolded, not an attending physician nearly two years out of training. She jumped when she felt a cool hand against her cheek, guiding her to make eye contact again while pushing a rogue strand of hair away._

_“All amazing,” Gen said, a sparkle in her eye. “I’m sorry - I didn’t mean to…” She suddenly dropped her hand from Carol’s face. “I’m always just a little too personal. Please excuse me.”_

_Carol shook her head as she felt heat rise up her chest and spiral up her neck like tendrils of flame. “It’s fine,” was all she could manage to say._

_“You should be proud. I’ve never seen an Intensivist attempt to improve their bedside echo skills. I’d ask you to teach me some critical care procedures in return, but your job scares me.” Gen had taken a few steps back now, clearly regretting the instinctive contact she had made moments ago._

_Carol laughed and felt the air instantly diffuse of tension. She liked this woman. She more than liked her. She suddenly felt like she wanted to know more, to know everything there was to know about her. She was pulled from her moment of reflection by loud overhead announcement:_

_“CODE BLUE, ICU ROOM 12.”_

_The mechanical-sounding announcement repeated itself, but it was Abby’s urgent voice booming from down the hall that finally grabbed Carol’s attention. Like a bell at a cage fight, Abby broke her like a frozen statue and set her in motion. “Carol! Carol, let’s go!”_

_Genevieve watched Carol run away, and Carol felt that gaze follow her like a drone._

~***~

“Carol.” Harge tilted his head and looked at his wife with genuine concern. He spoke a little louder. “Carol?” Still no movement. Carol was standing at the sink, her back turned to the table. “Carol!” Finally, the blonde woman jumped, and she twirled around to face him. He noticed darkened circles under her eyes and her hair was uncharacteristically askew. “You’ve been standing at the sink for nearly five whole minutes with the water running, doing absolutely nothing at all,” he said. “Darling, are you all right?”

Carol shook her head to clear the cobwebs and turned off the faucet. She joined her husband at the dinner table, where her plate of chicken piccata was left nearly untouched. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I was just remembering something…I… I feel ten steps behind, like I’m slogging through mental mud.” She picked up her fork and started moving vegetables around her plate without eating any. “Were you saying something?”

Harge was silent, waiting for Carol to make eye contact. When she finally met his stare, he noticed her eyes were red and glassy. “Oh, Jesus,” he said.

Carol furrowed her brow in confusion. “What?” She snapped back at him. “What is it?”

“I know this look. This distance.” Harge set down his fork and grabbed Carol’s hand, held on to it despite her attempts to pull away. “Who is she, Carol?”

Carol’s eyes met her husband’s once more and this time her gaze was strong, piercing. Her mind was reeling and backpedaling before any words even exited her mouth. “There is no ‘she,’ Harge. There isn’t - there isn’t anything wrong. I’m just having a stressful week. You know how it is when you’re working with the residents. They drain you dry.” She averted her gaze, aware that he would know she was hiding something, even though she wasn’t quite sure what that something was.

“Oh, I’m fully aware of the hell it can be working with residents, but this isn’t that,” Harge quipped. “You’ve been distant all week. You’re hair is different, your makeup... You forget I’m a gay man, darling. I’m going to notice when you change your makeup.” His attempt to lighten the mood worked, and Carol laughed.

She looked back up at him and was filled with a feeling of warmth, of contentment. She felt lucky to be his wife, even if their relationship made no sense to anyone else. She felt… safe. She felt happy when she was with him. But these warm feelings were tempered, because she knew it had an expiration date. She knew it was only a matter of time before they both found lovers who would be unsupportive of their arrangement.

“I think I know what this is about.” Harge broke the silence.

Carol looked up at him with surprise. There’s no way he could know, she hadn’t even mentioned Therese’s name. There wasn’t even anything going on! She felt sweaty again, confused by her own emotions and thoughts. She wanted to continue to hide, but she started speaking against her own better judgement, words spilling out of her like a confession. “She’s a resident, Harge. I don’t know what exactly I’m feeling. She’s just - she’s so bright and so lovely. I don’t have feelings like that per se, I’m just - I’m torn because I want to teach her. I want to teach her everything.”

The look on Harge’s face was one of complete shock. “Ok,” Carol said, cautiously. “I’m guessing by the look on your face that this isn’t what you thought this was about.”

“Um, no,” he said. “I mean, I will be the first one to warn you to be careful with residents, as you know my history. But you don’t need me to tell you that. You’re a smart woman.” He paused and took his own turn at moving vegetables around his plate mindlessly, dropping eye contact.

“So…” Carol prodded him. “Harge, what the fuck are you getting at? It’s not your style to go all radio silent in the middle of a conversation. That’s more my thing.” She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t. Then she was really concerned.

He kept his head down when he finally responded. “Genevieve is back, Carol.”

Carol felt her heart soar and then sink in quick succession. “Well. Fuck.” She was silent a moment, and Harge let her have the space. “When does she, I mean…” She stopped again. She couldn’t form coherent questions.

Harge took over and answered her unasked questions, all of which he anticipated flawlessly. “She won’t be back to work for a couple of weeks, as far as I know. She returned from Syria just a few days ago. I’m presuming she’s taking some time to wash off the sand and blood before returning to civilization.”

Carol rolled her eyes at him. “You know it wasn’t all blood and guts all the time, darling. I think you have this opinion of Doctors Without Borders that they’re always in full riot gear, getting blown up by IEDs every day.”

Harge nodded. “Pretty much. I hear she took two bullets to the abdomen while she was there. We’re doctors, not soldiers. I don’t understand the draw.”

Carol’s heart sank when she heard of Gen’s injuries. She thought of her then for the first time in a long time. She hadn’t allowed herself to think of her. She thought of how she knew Gen would react in that moment she was shot. Gen would have been so strong, so courageous. She wouldn’t have cried. She doubted she would have even stopped working.

“You still miss her, don’t you?” Harge’s voice was soft, understanding.

“Yes,” Carol said. The quickness of her reply surprised them both. Then she shook her head. “It’s more than that,” she continued. “I miss who I was when I was with her. I miss myself.”

Harge extended his hand back across the table to meet hers and they finished their meal in silence.

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hi! 
> 
> Dear readers, I am deeply sorry for the delay between updates. Please know that I care deeply about this story, and don't plan to leave it. Sometimes life just gets in the way of my best laid plans ;) I hope you are still enjoying this, because it's going to get interesting...

**Chapter 6**

> _“I grew up and I found my purpose and it was to become a physician. My intent wasn't to save the world as much as to heal myself. Few doctors will admit this, certainly not young ones, but subconsciously, in entering the profession, we must believe that ministering to others will heal our woundedness. And it can. but it can also deepen the wound.”_
> 
> _ ~ Abraham Verghese  _
> 
>  
> 
> _ “In this bright future, you can’t forget your past.” _
> 
> _ ~ Bob Marley _
> 
> ~***~

Therese moved absentmindedly through the salad bar line in the hospital cafeteria. Her every move was mechanized and automatic at this point. She ate the same thing nearly every day. She glanced down at the bins of wilted lettuce in front of her and winced a little before resigning herself to her fate and moving on, picking out the least wilted of the bunch and cramming them into her plastic to-go container. Her vision narrowed and blurred a little under the bright cafeteria lights and she rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, trying to clear her view. The fogginess seemed to be permanent right now. She hadn’t been sleeping well again, and this wasn’t exactly the best time for insomnia to rear its ugly head. She felt slightly faint as she moved pass the protein choices, forgoing the chicken and tuna and opting for tofu instead. 

She finally made it to the end of the counter and was fumbling open the bottle of salad dressing when her pager vibrated inside her pocket. It was an ordinary enough occurrence that it shouldn’t have startled her but it did, and she jumped. The top of the salad dressing bottle popped off suddenly, coating her hands in balsamic vinaigrette, which then started dripping down the sleeve of her white coat.

“Can’t say I haven’t been there.” A voice from behind her startled her even more and she jumped again. Therese thought she must look like a drug addict on the verge of a nervous breakdown. She was staring into the face of a woman about her height, who was offering a handful of napkins with a stoic look on her face. 

“Th…thanks,” Therese stammered. She took the napkins from the older woman’s grasp and started wiping down her hands and the sleeve of her coat. 

“I know this look,” what woman continued. “Let me guess. Intern. ICU month?” 

Therese nodded and laughed a little. “Nailed it,” she said. 

“Let me clean this up and I’ll buy your lunch. Go return your page, and I’ll meet you in the physician’s dining area when you’re done.” The dark-haired woman had already reached out and took Therese’s salad from her hand and was wiping down the salad dressing bar with deft precision. 

Therese just stood there in awe. 

“Go on!” The older woman pressed her. “You’re on ICU, there aren’t really any unimportant pages.” 

Therese blinked quickly. “You’re right, thank you. Thank you so much.” 

When Therese hung up the phone after dealing with two more subsequent pages, she looked around for her unnamed benefactress and spotted her sitting in a corner booth in the physician dining area. She smiled, her dimples showing, and hurried towards her. “Thank you again, so much,” she said, as she discarded her soiled white coat and slid into the booth next to her. 

“It’s no trouble at all, really.” The older woman extended her hand. “I’m Genevieve Cantrell.” 

Therese shook her hand and was surprised at the firm grip from such a slight woman. “Therese Belivet.” 

Genevieve smirked a little upon hearing the name. Therese eyed her as she dug into her salad, just then realizing how starved she really was. She caught Genevieve staring and reflexively wiped her mouth, thinking she had food there, or something else egregiously embarrassing to top off the encounter. “What?” She questioned. 

“Oh, nothing. I was actually just reading some of your charts,” Genevieve said. 

“My charts? Why?” Therese was nervous. For the first time she wondered who this woman really was. 

“I’m recently back working here after a brief…hiatus.” Genevieve explained. “I’m a Cardiologist and I’m doing ICU consults this week.” 

“Oh,” Therese said, the relief evident in her voice. “I see.” 

“I was also spying,” Genevieve continued. Therese coughed a little on her iced tea and Gen laughed. “Not on you, dear. On a …. well on someone else.” 

Therese opened her mouth to question further but Genevieve’s pager squawked this time and she looked down at it with concern. 

“I need to go.” Genevieve packed up her half-eaten salad sipped the last of her diet coke. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Therese Belivet.” 

“Likewise,” Therese said. “And thank you, again.” 

Genevieve winked at her as she hurried out. 

~***~

Abby was exhausted. She picked up additional shifts to try to take her mind off her personal life, but she was quickly realizing she may have overdone it. Her vision was starting to blur at the edges and her head ached so badly she could hear her own pulse in her ears. She was in this strange state of drowsiness mixed with a deft edge of clarity that only over-caffeination can bring when she saw the shorter brunette woman out of the corner of her eye. Abby felt the heartbeat in her ears tick up in speed and intensity. The ICU, while usually chilly, suddenly felt freezing. All the hair on her body prickled as her flesh pebbled into goosebumps. 

“Abigail.” 

There was just that, only her name, but it was enough to turn Abby’s blood cold in her veins. She tried to steady herself and stand up taller. “Genevieve,” she said, barely lifting her head to make narrow eye contact. 

Gen couldn’t read Abby’s expression. Gen was never great with reading expressions. She also wasn’t great with understanding human emotions, or so Carol would have her believe. “It’s good to see you.” Gen’s voice was sincere. “How have you been?”

“I’m well, thanks for asking.” Abby opened her mouth to say something more about how it was good to have Gen back or some sentiment of apology for her gunshot wound, but the words stuck in her throat. Abby could care less about what Gen went through in Syria and she definitely wasn’t happy to see her back at work. There was no use pretending. She turned her back to Gen completely, feigning focus on the patient chart open on the computer in front of her workstation. 

Abby’s head throbbed and a wave of nausea slapped her like a physical hand to her face. She heard Gen walk away, shoe steps on the floor echoing louder than Abby thought possible for such a slight woman. Abby’s eyes flashed to the resident work area. She watched as Therese squinted her eyes in concentration while chewing a pen which hung from the corner of her mouth. “So close,” Abby whispered under her breath to no one. “You were so close to intercepting her, young doctor. Too late now.” 

~***~

Gen laid her hand softly on Carol’s back against her shoulder blades and rested it there, unwavering. Carol initially shivered at the contact and then settled back against it, her body familiar with the pressure, with the mix of gentleness and deliberateness that was distinctly Gen. Carol flinched sharply as she thought of that hand ghosting across her skin; inscribing goosebumps into her flesh. Her memory trickled back to those same fingers pebbling her nipples to attention, touching her…

“Carol…”

Carol jumped, startled out of her reverie. She didn’t turn around. “Gen. I heard you were back.”

“You can’t even look at me?”

Carol turned around slowly and met Gen’s probing gaze. She melted instantly as brown eyes pieced her. Gen’s gaze was so intense, so direct. Carol felt stripped bare again, laid open in front of this woman who had so delicately pulled her out of her shell only to leave her abandoned and exposed. 

“You’re back.” Carol’s gaze drifted towards the floor, unable to maintain eye contact. 

“I am.” Gen’s voice was softer than Carol remembered it. 

“Why?” Carol’s voice squeaked and she felt her breath hitch in her chest. 

“Because my tour ended. Because I got shot.”

Carol stiffened at the words, her brow creasing and betraying her feelings. She knew Gen would see it, would catch the slight chip in Carol’s icy exterior that might prove Carol still cared for her. Carol’s voice found its footing again, stronger than she felt. “Are you - I mean do you …” She fumbled over herself. 

“I’m ok, but they won’t let me go back. Not for a while.”

Carol raised an eyebrow and cautiously met Gen’s gaze again. “Would you even want to go back now?”

Gen didn’t hesitate. “Now, more than ever.”

Carol shook her head sadly. There was the same intensity, this fierce desire to do this thing that Carol never understood. It had driven them apart before and it would be a permanent wedge between them now. How silly for her to think that Gen would be back to stay, to think Gen would even care to see if Carol was….available. She shivered and shrugged Gen’s hand off her back, feeling the air replace it with a chill.

“I don’t expect you to want to see me again”, Gen said. “I mean - I don’t expect you to understand why I did what I did, why I left. I know you think I was running away - from you. I know how you feel, Carol. But this is my calling. I had to go. Don’t shut me out.” 

Carol chuckled then, it escaped her without her permission. “I’m not the one shutting you out, darling.” She saw Gen squint slightly at the term of endearment; saw it hit her and affect her exactly as she had intended. “You left the country and you say I’m the one shutting YOU out?”

“I just mean….” Gen paused, uncertain of how to proceed. Uncertainty was a new look on Gen.

“Come have a drink with me, Carol. I can’t have this discussion with you here in the hallway of the medical ICU.”

“You always were uncomfortable here”, Carol jabbed.

“Well, not so much any more. Once you’ve seen a war zone, you sort of feel comfortable anywhere.”

Carol really saw Gen then, really looked into her eyes and saw how she had changed. She was hardened. Sharpened. “Yeah, ok. I’ll have a drink with you.”

Gen smiled, her face warming, the color coming back. “Good. She said. Now tell me about your new interns.”

~***~

Therese watched the interaction take place from behind the glass window of the resident workroom. She watched Dr Cantrell put a hand to Carols back and gasped audibly. There was something intense between those two women, Therese could feel it radiating from them like a hot steam.

“So what do you think is up with those two?” Phil asked. 

Therese jumped, started out of what she thought was a private snooping. “Shhhh!” She chided.

“Jesus! ok I’m just asking!” Phil feigned taking offense.  

Therese softened. “I dunno,” she said.  “I mean, I just met her today. She’s a Cardiologist.”

“I’ve seen her picture”, Phil said. “She just got back from like, the jungle or something.” 

Therese turned in her chair but kept her head facing the window. She shot a glance at Phil, dismayed “What do you mean?”

Phil acted annoyed. “I mean she was like, somewhere overseas with Doctors Without Borders and just got back. She’s going to do a Grand Rounds presentation in a few weeks about her trip and I dunno, maybe recruit people to go.”

Recognition hit Therese like a heavy stone in her stomach. “Oh my god” She said. “That’s Dr. Cantrell with…THE Dr. Cantrell. Phil - she wasn’t in the jungle, she was in Syria. She was part of a rescue mission that followed soldiers during clean up acts after chemical weapons wiped out entire villages. She’s basically a war hero. But she’s a doctor…” Therese’s voice trailed off. She was in awe. 

“That’s insane,” Phil said. “Why would you want to go to war?”

Therese was silent for a moment, watching the two women through the window before speaking again. “I think she’s brave,” Therese said, having drifted back towards the window, facing the two women again. “How do you think Dr. Aird knows her?” She added.

“Hell if I know”, Phil said. He had already lost interest and was focused on his work again. 

Therese felt completely distracted. She was fascinated by this new woman, and even more fascinated by the body language emanating from her and Carol. They know each other, she thought. They’re…friendly. Carol’s face was unreadable as usual, but there was something new there, something Therese had never seen before. …was it vulnerability? Therese shook her head at her own thoughts. Dr. Aird was anything but vulnerable. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Life's sticky twists and turns have prevented me from getting back to this story until now, but I'm still so very excited about it. I love these characters and I hope you haven't forgotten them. Thanks for coming back ;)

**Chapter 7**

> _ “Mortal fear is as crucial a thing to our lives as love. It cuts to the core of our being and shows us what we are. Will you step back and cover your eyes? Or will you have the strength to walk to the precipice and look out?” _
> 
> _ ~ Marisha Pessl _
> 
>  
> 
> _ “The dedicated doctor knows that she must be both scientist and humanitarian; her most agonizing decisions lie in the field of human relations” _
> 
> _ ~ David B. Allman _

***

Therese felt glued to her seat in the center of the auditorium as she waited for the grand rounds presentation to begin. She didn’t want to sit too close to the front and appear too eager, but she didn’t want to be in the back either. The truth was, she was eager as hell. She was so intrigued by Dr. Cantrell, even more so since she found out she was with Doctors Without Borders. Therese had been interested in the organization since she was an undergrad. She couldn’t wait to hear Dr. Cantrell’s story. 

Genevieve was chatting with a few other Cardiologists at the front of the auditorium, a hand thrown casually on her hip. Therese watched her closely. Gen started laughing at something that was said and then suddenly her hand moved to grip her side as if in pain; her shoulders hunched over sharply. The Dean of Medicine was standing next to her and put out an arm to steady her, but she brushed it aside and straightened her back with a determined grimace on her face. Therese furrowed her brow and winced sympathetically. 

Therese saw Carol enter the room with the rest of the ICU docs. They filled the seats in the back row. Therese had previously noted that they always sat in the back in case they needed to leave in a hurry to attend to a code or other emergency. Carol was laughing with a colleague but when she looked up Carol’s eyes seemed to find Therese’s like a beacon and Carol smiled at her. Therese could feel herself blushing and she was again perplexed by her own reactions. Confusion now seemed to be the status quo when it came to her feelings about Dr. Aird. 

Genevieve tapped the microphone and began speaking. Therese found she quickly forgot about her bodily reactions to Dr. Aird. She was drawn into Genevieve’s fascinating account of her time in Syria and the work she was involved in there. 

***

Carol knew she couldn’t get away with skipping Genevieve’s presentation, but she desperately wanted to. She decided she would go with the rest of her colleagues and try to tune Gen out by reading a book on her phone as soon as the presentation started. When she entered the auditorium she caught Therese’s eye and she somehow felt calmed by the eye contact, her mind jolted away from it’s anxious moorings. 

Genevieve approached the microphone. She found Carol in the audience immediately and started directly at her. Carol looked down quickly, avoiding eye contact.  _ This is going to be hard _ , she thought. 

Carol found she couldn’t ignore Gen’s speech. She tried to pull her eyes away from the slide show images flashing before her of injured soldiers as well as dehydrated, infected, dying refugees. Her heart ticked up a notch as she saw a picture flash across the screen of Genevieve herself tending to a wounded elderly man. Carol scoffed at her own emotions then tried, as usual, to logically put those emotions back into context.  _ It’s ok that you react this way, you can’t help the feelings you have, _ she told herself, trying to comfort her pacing heart. But underneath it all she knew it was hopeless. This is the same woman who had stolen her heart - and then broken it. 

Carol started to become fidgety, her anxiety was rising like an uncomfortable scarf being slowly tightened around her neck. She found her attention drifting and she gazed down the room on the opposite side of the aisle towards Therese. The young doctor was staring intently at Genevieve, leaning forward with her back off the auditorium chair as if trying to get closer to the words and pictures in front of her. She had a look of both awe and excitement coloring her cheeks. Carol squinted and looked away. She didn’t know why Therese’s rapt interest in Gen’s story should bother her, but it did. 

Just when all the emotional inputs seemed on the verge of overwhelming her, Carol’s fixation on Therese was broken as the auditorium erupted in applause. Carol jumped a little as she realized she had finally achieved her goal in tuning out the remainder of Gen’s presentation, and now it was over. 

Carol straightened up and took a deep breath. Genevieve would have to field a few questions and Carol could scurry out during that time. She opened up her phone and poised to send a fake page to her own pager, so she could pretend to have been called away by some emergency before the “meet and greet” that was customary after presentations. She had carefully thought this all through beforehand, as was her way. 

She was about to hit send on her text page when she heard Genevieve’s deep voice: “Yes, Dr. Belivet?” 

Carol’s eyes darted back across the auditorium. Therese had raised her hand for a question! Genevieve had picked her first! Carol’s head was spinning. She broke into a cold sweat and she felt herself start to lose her grip on the crashing wave of her anxiety as something else occurred to her. Genevieve knew Therese’s name. 

***

Therese felt a rush of adrenaline when Dr. Cantrell called her name. She was surprised to be picked first for questions, since about a quarter of the room had eagerly raised their hands after the thunderous applause had finally died down. She was even more surprised that Dr. Cantrell remembered her name, after their merely brief encounter in the cafeteria. 

“Yes, um…” Therese’s voice came out as a squeak and she cleared her throat before she continued. “First of all, thank you so much for sharing your story.” 

Gen grinned at her, and Therese’s voice found it’s legs, the rest of her words seemingly spilling out with eager enthusiasm. “I have been interested in the organization since I was an undergrad student. My question is, how can I become involved, I mean…” she paused, realizing she hadn’t really planned this out. She was so eager to simply ask how she could just fucking pack her bags and go to Syria that she forgot to think through how to actually pose a question. “I mean, what kind of doctors do you need?” 

Genevieve’s grin widened into a full blown smile and she paused before addressing Therese and the auditorium. “I’m so excited to hear the enthusiasm in your voice,” she said. “You remind me of myself when I was at your stage of training.” 

Therese felt the heat rise in her cheeks again when she heard herself compared to this woman she now held in such high regard. 

“All different types of healthcare professionals can become involved, from nurses to physicians,” Gen continued. “You do not have to deploy in war zones or even outside of the country to be involved. But, if you’re specifically interested in the kind of work that I presented here today, I’m delighted to use this time to share an exciting opportunity with you and your intern class.” 

The other interns in the room looked around at each other nervously, but Therese’s focus was glued on Dr. Cantrell, her eyes widening. 

Gen smiled as she saw Therese’s reaction to her teaser. “With help through funding from the University, our resident physician trainees will have the opportunity to serve a tour with Doctors Without Borders, fully funded, after successful completion of their intern year.”

Therese suddenly couldn’t feel her face. She thought her heart was going to beat out of her chest. The last time she was this excited was on graduation day, when she received her medical degree. This was the opportunity she had been looking for, something to bring her out of the mundane, to re-invigorate her love for her profession, to challenge her.

Gen waited for the eager whispering to subside before she continued. “There will only be one position available. Traditionally, physicians have to pay their own way in order to participate, but with this scholarship we will be able to fully fund one intern for the entirety of the tour. The location of the tour will be at the discretion of the applicant, provided that the location is one that our program serves. After completion of your six month tour you will rejoin your residency class. The rotations you will have missed during your tour will be substituted by the time you spent with the program, and you will graduate from Residency at the same time as your peers.”

The Dean of Medicine started clapping and soon the rest of the auditorium did as well. Therese looked back towards the row of ICU physicians and noticed Carol again. Carol’s face was white as a sheet and she was not clapping. She looked as if she was about to faint. Therese felt immediately concerned and confused but she didn’t have time to worry about that now. The only thing she could think about was what she needed to do to win that scholarship.

As the applause died down, Gen continued speaking. “I am so grateful that the Dean and all of you appreciate the significance of this opportunity for our young trainees. But to answer the rest of your question, Therese, there are, in fact, certain doctors we desperately need. Interns are helpful, but our organization has an even greater need for certain specialists who can provide for the specific needs we encounter on these tours. We need trauma surgeons. We need obstetricians.” She paused there and directed her gaze pointedly towards the back row of the auditorium. “And we need critical care physicians.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I'm on a roll - two updates in one week after a long hiatus ;) Don't get used to it! But I do hope you enjoy it. Things are definitely kicking up a notch....
> 
> Can't wait to hear your thoughts ;)

**Chapter 8**

 

> _“Weren’t you always distracted by expectation, as if every event announced a beloved? Where can you find a place to keep her, with all the huge strange thoughts inside you going and coming and often staying all night?”_
> 
> ~ Rainer Maria Rilke
> 
>  
> 
> _“However entrancing it is to wander unchecked through a garden of bright images, are we not enticing your mind from another subject of almost equal importance?”_
> 
> ~ Ernest Bramah
> 
>  
> 
> _“Sometimes when you’re in a dark place you think you’ve been buried but you’ve actually been planted.”_
> 
> ~ Christine Caine

~***~

It had been two days since the now locally famous Genevieve Cantrell had caused a stir with her Grand Rounds presentation. Carol noticed Therese’s concentration had lapsed while on rounds, her mind clearly elsewhere. She was still the best intern in the group, but that wasn’t saying much. Carol couldn’t figure out how to get back to her, to pull her out of the stupor that Genevieve had introduced.

Therese could take the scholarship. Carol was sure she would be chosen if she pursued it. Therese would still graduate from Residency on time, and she could still pursue a fellowship in Critical Care if she desired. But she would be missing six months of core rotations that would have to be substituted for her elective time during her second and third years. That was precious elective time that Carol had hoped Therese would choose to spend in the ICU- learning, growing. Carol had hoped those would be times Therese would be spending with _her_.

Carol came home with these thoughts gnawing at her like a stubborn rodent hidden in the floorboards of her mind. Harge picked up on her detachment again, as usual.

“You have to let this whole Doctors Without Borders thing go, Carol.” His voice was soft, but firm. “This intern has clearly shown that this is what she wants to do. Why do you want to step in the way of her chosen career path? That isn’t like you.”

Carol took a step back, hurt by his accusations. “I’m not trying to stand in her way, Harge. I just don’t think this is what she really wants. I know she’s interested in Critical Care, she was just temporarily wooed by Genevieve’s charms. She doesn’t know what she wants. And I can’t ignore her talent, I can’t just…I can’t just step back and let her make a mistake without at least trying to tell her how I feel.”

Harge paused and let Carol cool down a bit, because he knew she wasn’t going to like what he had to say. “Has she come to you for advice about this?”

Carol’s eyes shot back up at him. “No, but she’s very shy. She would never - I don’t think she would know how to formulate the question. She needs _guidance_ , Harge. Isn’t that what we are supposed to provide for our trainees?”

Harge nodded. “Absolutely. But that’s not all that is going on here Carol. I know you’re going to deny it, and I know you’re going to hate me for saying it, but I know you. This girl has gotten under your skin. I know what it looks like because it happened to me.”

Carol couldn’t be angry at that. She was reminded of the brief affair that Harge had pursued with a resident a few years back, of the emotional toll it had taken on him. She thought about how harshly she had warned him about it and then criticized him for it.

Her voice softened. “I don’t know what it is about her.” She was surprised at her own candor, though she realized she shouldn’t be. She had always been able to open up to Harge. “I just, I don’t know.”

Harge stood from the table and walked up to Carol, put his arm gently around her shoulders and hugged her to his chest. “You’re exhausted,” he said. “You’ve been working yourself to death, staying nearly three hours past your shift every night this week. I know that play too. I know you’re trying to escape your own mind. But you’re going to run yourself into the ground.”

Carol nodded, a few stray tears escaping down her cheek. Harge wiped them away and planted a kiss on her forehead. She smiled. He moved towards the foyer, grabbing his coat from the back of the kitchen chair.

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“I told Robert I would drive out to his place tonight. I’m actually quite nervous. We haven’t… I mean… this is the first night we will be spending together.” Harge was actually blushing, and Carol smiled.

“I’m happy for you, darling,” she said. Robert was an X-ray tech that worked at the hospital. He and Harge had been flirting for as long as she could remember, and they finally started dating a few weeks ago.

“Try to get some rest, ok?” Harge’s voice was filled with concern.

“I will,” Carol promised.

~***~

Carol tried to relax. She poured herself a third glass of wine and curled up on her couch with the latest issue of her favorite critical care medical journal. She then realized she was supposed to be relaxing and traded it for a novel instead. She found her bookmark and was a few paragraphs in before she realized it had been so long since she had read the book that she had no idea what was going on in the story, and she would either have to start over or pick a new book. The wine hadn’t slowed the speed of her mind racing towards another night of insomnia.

The knock on her front door was so soft Carol wasn’t sure she had really heard anything. Then she remembered that was Gen’s way. Her heart swelled again and she tried to beat it back into her chest. How was it that the way someone knocked on a goddamn door could unhinge her? She felt raw, like an exposed nerve.

When she opened the door she felt her legs weaken at the sight of Genevieve, just as they always had before. Gen’s hair was effortlessly pulled back in a messy ponytail and she wore a simple plaid button-up over an exposed tank top with jeans. She made lesbian grunge look sexy. She made anything look sexy. Carol inadvertently licked her lower lip and Gen, ever perceptive, caught the slight gesture and winked at her. Suddenly the sexual tension in the room had been ratcheted up tenfold and Gen had just barely crossed the threshold of her door.

Carol closed the door and allowed herself a moment to try to gather her wits before turning back to face Gen. “To what do I owe this surprise?”

Gen smiled. “I know you said we could have drinks, but I also know that doesn’t necessarily equate to an invitation to come over.” She paused.

“Why do I sense a ‘but’?” Carol asked.

“But I couldn’t wait to see you,” Gen whispered the words, as if only partially committing to them. Gen had always been a woman of few words. She was terrible at expressing her emotions, she much preferred to show her feelings with actions - both inside and outside the bedroom.

“Why?” Carol asked. It was a simple question for a reason - it forced Gen to elaborate, to explain.

“Because, Carol.” She hung her head and slowly shook it back and forth while looking at her shoes. Carol thought for a moment that she would say nothing at all, but then she looked back up and met Carol’s eyes, her brown gaze intense, direct. “Because I have missed you. God, how I’ve missed you.”

Carol’s chest expanded with a warmth that slowly flowed down to her core, her heart picking up speed, her brain reacting with a familiar fuzziness, her head light and dizzy. Maybe it was the wine, or maybe it was her fervent desire to shut off her brain from it’s train of emotional processing, but Carol lunged at Gen, her lips crashing into the shorter woman. The surprise sent Gen careening back against the door.

Gen quickly overcame her surprise and her mouth eagerly sought Carol’s. Carol felt Gen’s warm tongue slip between her lips and she moaned, her cunt clenching forcefully, her mind finally free and clear of everything else.

Carol moved her mouth away and Gen opened her eyes. Gen wiped a strand of hair away from Carol’s sweaty cheek. Carol rubbed her thumb against Gen’s bottom lip then pushed it into her mouth. “I want you,” she said.

Gen needed no further persuasion. She pushed Carol backwards through the foyer towards the stairs. Carol turned to climb the stairs and Gen followed closely, her hands tracing Carol’s spine down to her ass, setting Carol’s body on fire.

When they reached Carol’s bedroom they eagerly came together again, teeth clashing with the force of their hunger. Gen licked the side of Carol’s face and nibbled her jaw while deftly pulling the tie loose from Carol’s robe to expose her.

Gen gasped and sighed. “I had almost forgotten how beautiful you are,” she said, her fingers tracing the sides of Carol’s breast then coming together to lightly pinch her nipple - the exact move that had always driven Carol wild and had fixed itself in her memory.

Carol shivered and moved closer to Gen, peppering kisses down the side of her cheek as she pushed the button-up shirt from Gen’s shoulders. Carol fumbled with the bottom of Gen’s tank, slowly starting to pull it up over her head. When the fabric was pulled taut over her upper abdomen, Carol felt Gen quiver against her. Carol quickly threw the shirt to the side and pulled back to look at her.

Gen had her eyes pinched shut tightly as if in pain. Carol glanced down and gasped. Gen’s abdomen was still bruised, shades of purple and yellow surrounding two central pink scars. Carol said nothing, but instead fell to her knees in front of the shorter woman. Carol placed a light kiss on each scar, then continued kissing, covering Gen’s abdomen with increasingly sloppy caresses of her lips and tongue.

Carol’s fingers initially fumbled at the jeans zipper, but then she was able to deftly pull pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Gen’s eyes opened widely at the action, surprised to see Carol taking control.

Gen backed up towards the bed and Carol followed her with hungry eyes. Carol pushed Gen down onto her back on top of the sheets. Carol remained standing at the foot of the bed and pulled Gen’s knees apart. Gen felt exposed, raw. Carol had never before been this dominant in their lovemaking.

Carol once again kneeled on the floor, this time her mouth coming flush with Gen’s cunt. Carol was immediately intoxicated by the smell of her, the scent provoking memories so strong they nearly brought her to tears. Carol pressed her nose to Gen’s clit and rested it there, breathing her in, savoring her.

Gen moaned and her back arched slightly off the bed. Carol flicked out her tongue and swirled it around Gen’s opening, teasing her, before moving up and taking her clit into her mouth. Carol held her lips still for a moment, teasing, before she began sucking at the tiny nub. Carol used nothing but her mouth to draw short whimpers from the brunette above her, which slowly escalated into lengthy moans.

Gen’s mouth hung open and she began to pant. Carol sensed the change in her breathing and added her tongue, swirling it around Gen’s clit and increasing the pressure of the suction with her mouth. She felt Gen clench and still for a moment before her body was wracked with her orgasm, the spasms nearly knocking Carol back off her knees. Carol reached up and held Gen down with a strong arm across her pelvis, careful to avoid her bruises, keeping Gen tethered to her mouth until her quivers subsided.

Gen was silent, her breathing shallow and rapid. Carol crawled up towards the pillows from the bottom of the bed and lay beside her, catching her own breath. She closed her eyes for a moment and felt the room spinning around her. She listened as Gen’s breathing evened again and then she felt warm fingers begin to trace the sides of her abdomen. Feather light touches crept lower to her pelvis and began to move across towards her center.

Carol opened her eyes and startled a bit to see Gen looking down at her. Gen had propped herself on her side, supporting her weight on one elbow, her other hand continuing its journey south.

Gen dipped her head and took Carol’s nipple into her mouth at the same time her fingers found Carol’s center, and she slid a finger inside without warning. Carol twitched a little, but the intrusion was a welcome one, and she found herself pushing her hips into Gen’s hand seeking more contact.

Gen moved her mouth to Carol’s other breast and repeated the action, this time adding another finger and moving her thumb up to press against Carol’s clit. Carol moaned, her voice loud and low, as she felt herself open more and soak Gen’s fingers.

Gen looked up, seeking eye contact, but Carol had her eyes pinched tightly shut, her head thrown back. “Harder,” Carol whimpered. “Please.”

Gen complied, moving her outside knee between Carol’s legs to add pressure behind her thrusting hand. She picked up her pace as well, and moved her head up towards Carol’s, trying to join their lips as she felt Carol begin to tighten around her.

As Gen drew near to her, Carol turned her head to one side, and Gen’s lips landed on her jaw instead. Gen tried to move back towards her, wanting to swallow Carol’s moans when she came, craving the intimacy of feeling Carol come undone against her mouth while she was inside her, but Carol turned her head back to the other side, avoiding Gen’s probing.

Gen finally settled on nibbling down Carol’s jaw to her earlobe and tracing the soft skin on her cheek with her tongue. Carol held her breath, which was her tell. “Breathe,” Gen had to remind her, and not for the first time.

Carol took a few shallow, gasping breaths before she released a long moan, the force of her contractions crushing Gen’s fingers like a vice grip. Gen moved down Carol’s neck and nuzzled her face there as she slowly removed her fingers, palming Carol’s clit to maintain contact as the aftershocks ripped through her.

Too sensitive for more direct contact, Carol reached a hand down and clasped Gen’s, drawing them both up to rest on her abdomen. Gen laid her head against Carol’s chest and they were silent then. They were silent for a long while.

~***~

 

> _“Disconnect from everything long enough to see if it feeds your soul or if it’s a distraction. What’s deeply connected will always remain.”_
> 
> ~Maryam Hasnaa

~***~

Carol wasn’t sure if Gen had fallen asleep. It seemed to Carol that they had been lying there for a long time, and Carol had been lost in a torrential wave of emotions, thoughts whizzing through her head at breakneck speeds.

Carol’s hand fell away from Gen’s as she broke the silence with a question that had been burning a hole in her brain the entire time she had been lying there, a thought like a freight train barreling its way through her mind. “How do you know Therese Belivet?” Her voice sounded much less sheepish than she felt.

Genevieve had been expecting the question and didn’t miss a beat. She hadn’t been sleeping either, her own mind racing equally as fast, a train speeding along a different track. “I met her in the hospital cafeteria right after she had spilled half a bottle of vinaigrette on herself.”

“No, I mean...” Carol hesitated. “I mean what is your interest in her?”

Gen chuckled. She propped her head on her hand and raised herself up on her elbow so she was staring down at Carol. “What’s _your_ interest in her?”

Carol didn’t expect Gen to turn the tables in this way, Genevieve wasn’t one for petty gossip. Carol didn’t know what Gen had heard, but she was sure that she hadn’t been explicit with her fascination with the young intern. Carol was pretty sure she may be trying to hide her true feelings from herself, so she was definitely not parading them in public.

“She’s doing her ICU month now,” Carol said, trying to sound casual. “She’s very talented. In fact, she’s one of the best interns I’ve ever worked with. She’s shy, but if she learns to trust her instincts and come out of her shell a bit, I think she has the potential to be really good at Critical Care.”

Gen looked down, but couldn’t hide the smirk on her face. “So, your interest in your young protege is merely professional?” She glanced back up to meet Carol’s eyes, not allowing her to evade the question; wanting to see her reaction.

Carol shook her head and smiled right back; holding her own. “Don’t be daft,” she quipped. “Of course it is. I just have not come across many residents in the recent years that seem at all suited for the ICU, let alone a woman.”

Gen found she couldn’t argue with that, Carol was right. “She _is_ bloody smart, that one,” she said. “If not a little awkward. I mean, bordering on goof-level awkward.”

Carol found she took offense to Gen’s characterization of Therese, and again she noted these feelings to herself, trying to make sense of her own emotions. It was becoming more and more clear that Carol’s interests in Therese were not merely professional. Carol knew this and she turned it over in her brain, while simultaneously realizing she did not hold a single ounce of regret for what had just transpired with the woman lying next to her. The complexity of it gave her an actual headache, manifesting as a nagging, pricking sensation behind her left eye.

Gen noticed Carol retreat into her thoughts and go silent, so she tried to provoke her further. “Therese has reached out to me about the scholarship.” She felt Carol tense against her, but Carol’s face betrayed nothing.

“I was at your grand rounds,” Carol said. “I heard Therese’s enthusiasm.” She scoffed under her breath. “I think she would have gotten on a plane to Syria that afternoon had you invited her.”

Gen was surprised at Carol’s candor. “I know. She’s excited. I know you want to support her and guide her towards a possible future in Critical Care, Carol.” Gen paused, unsure of how much she wanted to push the issue. “But… I want to guide her towards a possible future in global medicine.”

Carol shook her head vigorously and raised to an elbow to meet Gen at her level, eye-to-eye. “You don’t even know her,” she chided. “Just because she is interested in something doesn’t mean it is what she will ultimately decide to pursue. She has no idea what she would be committing to, she doesn’t know what happens - what happened to you!”

Gen tried to reach out to touch Carol’s arm, to calm her, but Carol brushed her off and sat up in bed.

“I don’t know why you’re doing this to me.” Carol’s voice started to crack and it took all of her strength not to break down in front of Gen. She could feel the tears stinging behind her eyes, a dam threatening to burst.

Gen sat up too, matching their positions, two alpha females meeting each other crack for crack, blow for blow. “What am I doing to _you,_ Carol?” Her voice was angry, not at all unsteady as Carol’s had been. “I thought we were talking about Therese. And I do know her. I’ve meet with her twice since my presentation. We have talked extensively. I don’t believe this is just a passing fancy for her, Carol. I believe she has a heart for this kind of work. I don’t know what kind of crush you’re nursing, or maybe you’re just trying to prevent her from pursuing this out of retaliation towards me.”

It was then that Carol understood everything. It suddenly all became clear to her, like a windshield wiper blade cutting across her vision, clearing the fog. Carol had no desire for retaliation against Gen. Yes - her body reacted to Gen. She felt a warmth and fondness about the memories she shared with Gen. But she knew in her bones that her desire to keep Therese close to her had absolutely nothing to do with Gen. She wanted to mentor Therese in her career, yes. But there was something else there, too. Something she could no longer deny.

Carol shivered and stood, wrapping the bed sheet around her torso. “If you think I am the sort of person to use an intern, worse - to manipulate her career to carry out my own revenge, then you must not have known me very well at all.”

Gen looked shocked at the words, but it was more than that, Carol thought - she looked hurt. Gen was never one to allow her icy exterior to melt long enough to see human emotions underneath. Carol used the opportunity to drive the knife in further.

“Get out, Genevieve.”

  



	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Thanks to those of you who have decided to keep reading! The good news is, Chapter 10 is also drafted and in the rough editing stages. I left notes at the end of this chapter as well, but I don't want to keep you waiting any longer than I already have ;)

**Chapter 9**

> _“H(er) friendship alone has strengthened me in a way that no one else’s ever has. (S)he swept me from my room and showed me independence. In other words, (S)he was exactly what I needed. I won’t forget it. And I certainly don’t want to lose it.”_
> 
> _~ Stephanie Perkins, “Anna and the French Kiss”_
> 
>  
> 
> _“I have your back. I didn’t mean only when it’s easy. All the time.”_
> 
> _~ Veronica Roth, “Divergent”_
> 
> ~***~

Abby came around the hallway corner and saw Carol standing at the coffee cart. She started to turn back towards the ICU to avoid speaking to her, but quickly realized that would mean she wouldn’t get coffee. That was definitely not an option at this hour of the morning, especially after having spent the last three nights on a couch. The line was growing quickly as sleepy physicians and nurses filed in through the main atrium. She let out a deep sigh and massaged a knot in her neck. She forced a smile when Carol turned around and caught a glimpse of her.

“You look like hell, Abigail,” Carol whispered, sliding next to Abby in line. Carol blew gently across the rim of her coffee cup.

Abby couldn’t help but allow her gaze to be drawn to Carol while the blonde attempted to cool her coffee enough to get that first precious sip. A tendril of foam had latched onto her lip and her tongue darted out to lick it clean. She was so fucking gorgeous, it was a wonder any of those residents ever got anything done while she was attending rounds.

“I feel like hell, so at least I’m congruent,” Abby said.

Carol laughed and Abby felt her heart clench with the sound. As usual, Carol didn’t probe further. Abby didn’t have to elaborate on why she felt like hell, or why she had been out of sorts lately, or why she was sleeping on the couch in her own goddamn house. Abby suddenly realized that this _should_ make her angry. Carol didn’t give a shit about her life, so why should she care about Carol’s? She shook thoughts of Carol’s luscious lips from her brain. If she offended Carol, she suddenly didn’t care. The haze of exhaustion buoyed her nihilism.

“You fucked her again, didn’t you?” Abby whispered it, as they were still in the coffee line, but somehow she knew it would hit Carol as if she had screamed at the top of her lungs.

Carol did an actual spit take, foam lurching out of her mouth as she began to take a sip of the hot liquid. The embarrassed blonde quickly wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and pulled Abby out of line into a nearby side hallway.

“First of all,” Carol started, indignant. “You can’t just talk like that to me in the coffee line, what the hell were you thinking?”

“Don’t start with me, Carol. No one heard me and you know it. Or do you just mean I can’t talk to you like that in general? Am I not worthy? Are you so elite and untouchable in this hospital hierarchy that you can’t even have a conversation with your best friend in the coffee line? I can’t call you out on your bullshit?”

Carol was speechless. She didn’t expect Abby to react this way. Abby wasn’t backing down. Her body language was dominant, her posture tall and strong as she faced Carol head on.

“What has gotten into you?” Carol hissed, quickly glancing behind her to make sure they were still secluded in the hallway.

“We’re alone, your reputation is intact.” Abby kept her voice even, resolute. “Look, I’ve had a rough week. I’m sorry if I’m not exactly subtle with my delivery or in any mood to beat around the bush with you. I don’t see you denying it yet, by the way.”

Carol’s eyes flashed and Abby knew all she needed to know. In that split second when the facade of Carol’s icy exterior slipped, Abby saw and confirmed exactly what she had suspected.

Before she met Abby, Carol truly believed her demeanor created a wall against the outside world, impenetrable to analysis of her emotions or intent. Abby could always see right through it, from the very beginning. With just a glance or a word she could cast it aside like a curtain thrust open to reveal the sunlight.

“How did you know?” Carol whispered.

Abby sighed. “I saw Genevieve late yesterday afternoon, towards the end of my shift. She had come to do a consult in the unit.”

Carol cut her off. “Did she say something to you about us? I don’t know what she implied, but you know how she is. You’re never going to get the real story.”

“She didn’t speak to me, Carol. I… well, you know I can read people. And she looked miserable. You know that awful slouch she does, walking like it hurts to pick her feet up off the floor? And it struck me so obviously, so clearly. Every single time I have ever seen her like that was after you two had a fight.”

Carol felt stupid. She easily could have evaded the issue if this was all Abby had to go on, but she already foolishly gave herself away. She felt exposed and shamed, but she wasn’t sure why. She was a grown woman and she had needs and Gen had met those needs… but something inside Carol sensed the wrongness of it from the beginning. She sensed her world shifting under her and casting shadows of doubt across everything she thought she knew, everything she was sure of. Those same shadows seemed to be lurking everywhere since. Her intentions were blurred and opaque even to herself as her heart fought to convince her mind of its chosen path. The fog cleared slightly as she realized Abby had started talking again.

“...I didn’t think much more of it until she saw my face as she was leaving and literally scurried away like a rabid, nocturnal animal.” Abby let out a chuckle, despite her best intentions to keep her amusement to herself. “Who would think that a brilliant, world-renowned Cardiologist would cower from an ICU nurse just because I knew of her torrid sexual affair with our best Critical Care doc?”

Carol could feel the heat rising to her cheeks and desperately tried to calm her pulse from racing towards full disclosure. “I slept with her. Yes. What do you want me to say? That I regret it? Because that’s true too.”

“I don’t want or need you to say anything, Carol.” Abby’s tone had softened. “I just... I know what you went through before - with her. When she left, how you were... I don’t want to see you go through that again, that’s all.”

Carol couldn’t speak. She felt splayed open and she wasn’t accustomed to the exposure.

“I am not in a position to judge you, Carol. I’m not trying to. I want you to know that I understand. I know what it’s like to go back to something that you find familiar. There’s a certain inertia that comes from being comfortable. But if you’re not careful, that inertia will keep carrying you along a path you don’t want to be on, and suddenly you’ll find it’s too late to get off.”

Abby’s words hit Carol like a stone. Was she really that much of a cliche? Had she really fallen back into Gen’s arms like an old comfortable sweater because it was familiar? Easy? She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing as her pulse raced against her temples.

“How are you so wise?” Carol asked, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

“Because I’ve made all the same mistakes you’re making right now. Because I made a mistake of the same kind a couple of weeks ago, and now I think I’ve lost the only relationship that has ever mattered to me.” Abby stopped abruptly, wishing she could shovel the words back into her mouth.

Carols eyes widened. She was suddenly sobered. “What have you done, Abigail? You and Nanette?”

“Nanette kicked me out of my own bedroom, as she should have. And yes, there is a story there. But don’t try to turn the tables on this conversation and suddenly pretend you give a shit about my love life.”

“I do care, Abby. I care deeply. Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have held you down! I would’ve grounded you and brought you back to the reality that Nanette was good for you and whatever stupid thing you did was clearly just that - stupid.”

“Oh my god, Carol. You look honestly shocked! How could as person as smart as you be so goddamn stupid? If you honestly look back on the last few months you think you can claim you care for me and back that up with actual data? You, the woman who speaks on rounds every day about the value of hard evidence?”

Carol couldn’t deny the words Abby was saying. She had been distant. She had deliberately avoided approaching Abby when she could tell Abby was distraught or distracted because she felt too invested and weighed down in her own muck to get involved in someone else’s drama. And yet, Abby had listened to her stories of Gen and of Harge. She had offered her usual, steadfast advice and shoulder to lean on - all the while going through whatever this nonsense was with her own girlfriend. Abigail had never wavered. Her friendship was like a lighthouse beacon on the coldest night, lit for guidance even when waves were crashing against its own shore, threatening its own moorings. Self-disgust rose in Carol’s throat like hot bile and she dropped her head, attempting to hide the shame she knew would be written all over her face.

Abby ignored her gesture and continued, unwilling to waste the moment of courage she had so uncharacteristically embraced. “I’m not mad at you, Carol. I’m not even sad - not anymore. I’m just disappointed. I know you have a lot going on. I know you _have_ had a lot going on since Gen left. But when you stopped talking to me there was only so long I could keep asking and getting turned away before I stopped trying. I’m not going to pry or beg to be a part of your life. I’m not that desperate. I’m not one of your adoring fans, Carol.”

At the last remark, Carol looked up, tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what to say, Abby. I feel awful. I can’t believe I… I just didn’t realize it had gotten this bad. I didn’t know what was going on with you I… I feel like an asshole.”

Abby put a gentle hand on Carol’s shoulder which only made Carol’s tears fall quicker. Carol had mastered the art of masking her tears. Onlookers would have no idea she was emotional. Her back was still straight. She held her head straight up, her shoulders back in a defiant pose. Carol was always a walking contradiction, a constant battle of one version of herself against another.

“You didn’t know what was going on with me because you didn’t ask, Carol.” Now it was Abby’s turn to look away, afraid Carol would detect the hurt in her eyes when she was determined to be steadfast. “And you didn’t ask because you are overwhelmed with your own life right now, and I get that, I do. But it’s not my fault either. It’s not my fault for not coming to seek you out to complain to you about my failed relationships. You’re not my therapist.”

“I want to make it right.” Carol’s tone was resolute.

“You can. We can. We can rebuild our friendship, Carol. The foundation is there and it’s strong. But this isn’t like a septic patient you can fix with the right combination of antibiotics and a few days of IV fluids. You can’t just put a plan into motion now and expect it to carry itself out without your attention. This isn’t teaching rounds. You don’t have little intern minions chasing your every move and doing your dirty work. You have to _want_ to make it better, Carol. And if you don’t, that’s ok. But don’t lead me on. Don’t make me think you care or make me think you want to rebuild our friendship and then do this to me again. Don’t shut me out. Because then _I’m_ the one who will feel like an asshole.”

Carol was surprised at Abby’s candor. She was rarely this forward, especially at work. Carol nodded her head. “I know my words don’t matter. I’ll show you. I promise. You’re my best friend, Abigail. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Carol put an arm around Abby’s shoulders and pulled her into an embrace. She felt Abby’s upper body stiffen at the contact, a last act of defiance before becoming soft and pliant under the taller woman’s strong arms.

“Ok, good.” Abby’s soft voice leaked out from the crook in Carol’s armpit. “Because I’ve missed you, you little shit.”

Carol laughed, her voice back to its characteristic heartiness, the chuckle warming them both. “Whatever you’ve done, you have to fix it. Tell me over lunch and we’ll come up with a plan, but you’ve got to get her back, Abbs.”

Abby nodded. “I know.” She was warmed by Carol’s use of her nickname, realizing it had been ages since she’d heard it from those lips.

Carol’s pager went off and she glanced down quickly. “I’ve got to go, this is about bed 8 again.” She turned to leave but grasped Abby’s hand at the last moment and pulled her towards her again. She kissed her temple and whispered in her ear. “I’ve missed you too, you nitwit.”

  
~***~

 

> _“Stop worrying where you’re going - move on._
> 
> _If you could know where you’re going, you’ve gone._
> 
> _Just keep moving on._
> 
> _I chose and my world was shaken, so what._
> 
> _The choice may have been mistaken, the choosing was not._
> 
> _You have to move on._
> 
> _Look at what you want_
> 
> _not at where you are_
> 
> _not at what you’ll be.”_
> 
> _~ Stephen Sondheim: Sunday in the Park with George, “Move On”_

~***~

Carol hesitated at the door of the Cardiac Catheterization lab, carefully tucking herself out of view behind the glass paneling. She wanted to see Gen, but she wasn’t quite sure she wanted Gen to see her - not yet.

  
Carol’s chat with Abby the day prior had hardened her resolve, grounded her back to what really mattered. She had been running in place for what seemed like years now, wheels spinning, trying to find meaning in meaningless things. Sleeping with Gen was just another one of those meaningless things.

It wasn’t just the reality check on their friendship that Abby had gifted Carol the day before. It prompted Carol to really think about her situation, to finally stop and ask herself what was really important. She never was great at self-reflection, but the realization of what she should do came to her like an epiphany. Despite being out of her character to act on something without deliberating for weeks on end and creating pie charts and pros and cons lists, she knew that was also exactly why she _should_ act now. She needed to do this before she lost the nerve.

“Shit. Motherfucker.”

Gen’s outburst startled Carol and she flung the pen she was subconsciously twirling between her fingers - an old nervous habit dating back to medical school. The pen ricocheted against the glass wall, creating a commotion out of proportion to the expected. Carol flinched.

Gen looked up towards the intrusive sound, her expression hidden behind her cap and mask.

Carol didn’t try to hide herself, there was no use now. Instead, she took a step forward, fully exposing herself in the narrow frame of window that the Cardiologist could see.

“I just slipped out again. Let’s recannulate and attempt the proximal angioplasty one more time.” Gen’s eyes never left Carol as she spoke to her team.

Carol recognized the difficulty of the procedure Gen was attempting and she allowed herself to become absorbed watching her work. She shuffled in next to the tech sitting behind the window and watched the fluoroscopy screen as Gen repeatedly injected dye into the arteries of the heart to identify the locations of the blockages. Carol couldn’t see Gen’s hands, but she could imagine her carefully directing the catheter to the right location and deploying the balloons and stents that would hold open the delicate arteries and restore blood flow to the heart muscle. She almost felt like clapping when Gen had finished the procedure and the blood flow returned to normal.

“Well that one was a bitch, but good work, people,” Gen said, as she removed her cap and gown.

Various accolades and praises were muttered in response from all corners of the room at a job clearly well done. Gen’s eyes settled on Carol and she froze for a second.

Carol realized that Gen probably thought she was gone. It had been a good thirty to forty-five minutes since Carol had snuck in to watch after inadvertently making her presence known.

Gen exited the lab, passing close to Carol on her way out. “Let me dictate this procedure and talk to the family, then we can chat.”

Carol nodded. “Yes, of course. Go. Would you like me to meet you somewhere?”

“My office. Give me ten minutes.”

~***~

Carol wasn’t sure why she was anxious like a kid in a principal’s office to be speaking with her ex-lover on a random Thursday, but she was examining the random trinkets on Gen’s desk as if it were her first time exploring wonderful cave relics, as if she hadn’t seen them hundreds of times before. Carol knew Gen had asked to meet in her office because she would be more comfortable there. She would have the upper hand. Gen’s office was always where the two of them used to rendezvous whenever they had a free moment, and Gen was smart enough to know it would trigger Carol to be back there for the first time since her return.

Gen had restored her office almost exactly as it was before she left. Carol’s senses were ignited by the smell of her perfume which lingered in the air, probably due to Gen’s previously-worn white coats hanging on the back of the door. Carol closed her eyes as the smells triggered her memory. Visions danced before her eyelids, visions of Gen pressed up against that same door with Carol’s fingers buried inside her, Carol’s other hand on her mouth to muffle her cries. Carol swallowed hard and tried to push the memories aside.

The door opened slowly, so quietly Carol barely heard it. She opened her eyes on instinct to find Genevieve standing directly in front of her. Carol’s eyes widened, guilt pouring over her as if Gen could sense what she had been reminiscing about.

“Have you come to apologize?” Gen’s voice was colder than before. The brunette turned her back to the blonde and made her way to her desk chair, putting distance between them.

“I wanted to talk to you for a couple of reasons, but yes, an apology is on the list.” Carol wanted to apologize, but she also wasn’t going to grovel. Not now. Not for this.

“Ok, I’m listening.” Gen deposited her white coat on the back of her chair and propped her feet up on the corner of her desk.

“Don’t be smug, Genevieve. It’s not a good look on you.” Carol took the seat opposite the desk.

Gen chuckled. “I’m sorry, was that your apology?” She dropped her feet to the floor and squared herself to face the blonde directly. “Don’t you have lives to save, or are you content to just watch me do so all morning?”

Now it was Carol’s turn to laugh. “My god. Your arrogance is stunning, truly.”

“Ok first you said you were going to apologize, now you’re insulting me? Honestly, Carol. Why are you here? Do you want to try to convince me not to give Belivet the scholarship again? Because, you should know, the committee has already voted for her unanimously. My vote wouldn’t even really matter at this point.”

Carol shook her head. “No, that’s not what I...I know. I mean, I knew she would win.” Carol chastised herself for being so inarticulate, but goddaman if her usual composure wasn’t thrown askew every time the young Therese Belivet was brought into conversation.

“I do apologize for the way I acted the other night,” Carol continued. “I realize that I was abrupt and rude. It was uncalled for.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

Carol didn’t expect that response from Gen. She definitely didn’t expect the soft expression that met her gaze when she finally dared to make eye contact with the brunette.

Gen was silent for moment and both women felt the tension begin to build again. “Do you regret it, Carol?”

It was the sincerity of the delivery of the question that gave Carol pause, not the content. “I do, Gen. Yes. Don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Gen’s tone had snapped back to cold and distant. Her eyes glazed. She shook her head, mostly to clear the fog the blonde woman had created. She stood up slowly and grasped for her coat. “I should go, Carol. I have more cases to do and my clinic schedule is packed this afternoon. Thank you for your apology.” Gen kept her head down as she gathered her stethoscope and notes from her desk, avoiding eye contact.

Carol finally spoke up as Gen was nearly out the door. “Gen, I also wanted to ask you something. I didn’t just come here to talk about… us.”

Gen dropped her head further, and it appeared to take all her considerable strength to turn back to face her former lover. “Ok. Make it quick.”

“About the project… about the tour, I mean. I wanted to ask if there was still a need for faculty.”

Gen laughed. “Yes, of course. Why, do you know someone who may be interested? We really need docs, not more nurses.”

“Yeah, I know someone,” Carol said. Her voice was finally strong and resolute for the first time since she had entered Gen’s office. “Me. I want to go.”

Gen’s eyes widened and then settled on Carol’s. Gen was silent for a long while until a smile slowly crept across the corner of the her lips and colored her whole face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dearest readers,
> 
> I hate the idea of an “apology” for my absence, because it would seem insincere in this context. I probably could have churned out some nonsense over the past months, but it would have been just that - utter nonsense. I do care for this story. I care about the vision I have for it and I wouldn’t dream of exposing it to the writer I would have been had I tried to continue composing it during these past months. That being said, I can and will apologize for the length of this postscript, but bear with me (if you’re so inclined). 
> 
> I never planned to use AO3 as my personal diary space to subject readers to my aimless ramblings (that’s what tumblr is for). That being said, I do feel connected to those of you who have taken the time to comment on this story, and I want each and every one of you to know that I have read and appreciated every single thought you have shared. I apologize that I have not been in the head space to respond to the comments in the same manner as I did with “There is Always a Cost.” Please let this serve as my (admittedly inadequate and belated) response to those of you who have so kindly taken the time to comment on those first 8 chapters.
> 
> I started this second story during a period of transition in my life. While I was wading through it, I found myself yearning to grasp something familiar. In times of change, good or bad, we reach for that which gives us comfort. For us humans, familiarity is the warm blanket that we wrap ourselves in when the world seems too loud. 
> 
> As I reflect on my mindset while writing the early chapters of this second story, I am reminded of my Carol from “There is Always Cost,” a merely vaguely veiled version of myself during the time the bulk of that first story was written: 
> 
> “It wasn’t sadness that bred the best writing, it was emptiness. From nothing, came everything.” 
> 
> After concluding chapter 8 of “The Science of Uncertainty,” I realized that it felt forced, algorithmic. I suddenly felt the same way I have felt countless times before while working on other pieces that were pulled from me involuntarily - as some sort of task I assigned to myself, as some sort of debt to be paid. The logical conclusion regarding the reason for my writers block was also the conclusion that I had been gradually coming to accept with smile on my face... I was no longer empty. 
> 
> And so I begin the rest of this journey as if anew, with the same focus, the same dedication. But the writer has changed. As I said at the beginning, I am not here to offer an apology. But I am here to publicly announce my gratitude and thanks. 
> 
> My thanks to the woman who came into my life when I least expected it and turned it upside down. To the woman who pulled the sadness out of me and showed it to the light. To the woman who gripped my mind with her brilliance and challenged me to think in new ways. My thanks to the woman who loved me in a way that made me realize I never really knew love before I knew hers. 
> 
> I am hoping to prove my own Carol wrong. I am hoping that you will continue to enjoy this story that is coming from a writer in a new mindset - from a place of pure and unadulterated happiness, of humility, and of peace.
> 
> All thanks to you, my love. My loyal readers may also know her as “Pentimento.” 
> 
> P - this one is for you, as always, with my love and gratitude. I am yours.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who commented on my last chapter after my hiatus - I have missed you all!

** Chapter 10 **

 

> “The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.” 
> 
> ~ Plutarch 
> 
>  
> 
> “The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” 
> 
> ~ William Ward 
> 
>  
> 
> “I have left you a path, I hope you find it.”
> 
> ~ Mitta Xinindlu

                                                                                            ~***~

  
Therese’s head was buzzing. It wasn’t from too much coffee. This time it was because she was thinking too hard and feeling too much. The past two weeks had gone by in a frenzied blur and she suddenly found herself in the last week of her ICU rotation. It didn’t feel fair. She was just getting the hang of it. She was just finally feeling more comfortable with procedures, finally feeling like her hands weren’t shaking every time she put on sterile gloves. She finally felt confident that Dr. Aird was right - she did have a knack for this.    
  
The fact that she had a knack for it made everything even more confusing and difficult. She could tell Carol was disappointed to learn she was going after the global medicine scholarship with Dr. Cantrell’s program. She also couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something going on between those two women, something in their past, something muffled and confused but still very real. When they were in the same room together it was as if they put off a tangible aura likened to the stinging heat that flushed cheeks marked with embarrassment. Therese had always been sensitive to these things. She could always tell when her friends were arguing. She could always sniff out the tension in a room, but this seemed bigger than that. Therese felt sure that any human with a pulse could sense something between Carol and Genevieve, even if they couldn’t quite put their finger on it.    
  
Therese caught herself daydreaming about Dr. Aird more and more. She felt her mind drifting during rounds. She was trying to keep her distance because she wanted to make sure that her propensity for critical care wasn’t just a desperate attempt to be closer to Carol, but everything Carol said or did drew Therese to her even more. Therese soaked up Carol’s words like a sponge, often embarrassed to find her mouth literally agape as Carol gave a lecture or did bedside teaching on rounds. She wanted to be like her, yes, but she also just wanted to be near her… that simple fact was no longer something Therese could hide from herself. She wanted to reach out and touch Carol’s skin. She wanted to feel the way that blonde hair slid through her fingers. These thoughts would come and go, intermingled with thoughts of medical technique, of diagnostic quandaries, of antibiotics and blood pressure medications. The haphazard way Therese’s overworked brain spliced these opposing thoughts together could be nauseating at times, like whiplash. It was slowly driving her insane.    
  
Therese glanced up from her computer where she was reviewing some charts prior to rounds and did a double take when she saw Carol walk into the unit. Carol had her hair pulled back, which was rare to begin with, but there was something else that was different. Therese picked up on it immediately, her mind attuned to the older doctor’s visage like a familiar painting. Carol’s face was covered with too much makeup, her color pale compared to her usual brightness. Carol was walking towards Therese but didn’t seem to notice the young intern sitting there. As Carol approached, Therese could see the older woman’s eyes were different - colder and more grey.    
  
Carol’s eyes landed on Therese’s as she was almost past her, and recognition hit the older woman sharply, bringing her to focus. Therese smiled at her warmly and wished with all her might that she could be privileged enough to know what made this brilliant woman tick. In that moment she wanted nothing more than to understand what was upsetting Carol, and then to dig it out of her with force until those eyes were the same shining blue that Therese had seen the day before.    
  
“Dr. Belivet, you’re out making your pre-rounds early today. Anything needing my attention?” Carol’s voice seemed strained, her tone a forced pitch, higher than natural. Therese noted each nuance with growing concern.    
  
“Nothing you need to worry about,” Therese said. She didn’t want Carol to worry about anything. She wanted to give her a hug. She wanted to hold her and suddenly thought of what it would be like to hold Carol while she cried. It was an odd thought, and it surprised her a little.    
  
“I mean - nothing I can’t handle.” Therese immediately regretted the last bit. She didn’t want Carol to think she had grown cocky with only one month of experience under her belt. This was exemplary of Therese’s now common, frazzled cycle of pressured comments, followed by internal critique and shame, followed by attempts to undo her embarrassing outbursts - often only making it worse.    
  
Carol made eye contact with her young protege and the corner of her mouth turned up slightly in her signature smile. “I have no doubt you have things handled quite well.”    
  
Carol opened her mouth to speak again but then paused briefly and looked over Therese’s shoulder into the patient’s room behind her. Therese couldn’t tell if she was trying to look at the monitors or if she was simply straining for a reprieve from the eye contact. Therese often felt the strength of that contact would shake her limbs loose when Carol met her gaze. It was as if Carol could see her in a way no one else ever had. She allowed herself a moment to believe that Carol may feel even a fraction of that connection. Surely she couldn’t be imagining it all?    
  
Carol’s voice drew Therese back to reality. “If you’re not too busy right now, one of the patients who was brought in early this morning needs a line placed for urgent dialysis access. Would you like me to teach you the procedure?”    
  
Therese’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. This was one of several procedures usually reserved for the more senior residents. “Of course, yes. Thank you, Dr. Aird.”    
  
Carol nodded. “Room 6,” she said, and walked away. Therese hastily picked up her notebook and some scattered post-it notes from her work station. She fumbled them into the pocket of her coat before getting up to follow the taller woman, taking a few jogging steps to catch up.    
  
Carol had patiently detailed the procedure to Therese before going in the room and then shocked Therese by allowing her to do the entire procedure herself. Carol stood next to Therese the whole time, calmly pointing out things she did well and also showing her where she could improve her technique.    
  
When Therese had finished and was suturing the line in place, Carol turned away and removed her gloves and sterile gown. With her back turned to Therese she chuckled out loud. Therese was suddenly mortified. Had she done something wrong? What was even remotely funny about this?    
  
Carol turned back towards Therese to see the young doctor’s widened eyes, the rest of her expression covered by her mask. “You impress the hell out of me, Therese Belivet.” Carol winked at her and then slid out of the room, leaving Therese alone with the patient, beaming beneath her mask.    
  
After Therese had cleaned up the room and carefully disposed of her sharps, she exited and was surprised to see Carol right outside, leaning against the door. “Dr. Aird, thank you so much. I appreciate...”    
  
Carol cut the young doctor off by actually putting a finger to her lips. Therese felt as if she was seared, a deep blush creeping to her cheeks.    
  
“Enough thanking and apologizing and all of this... custom.” Carol wasn’t one to speak before she had everything plotted out in her mind, but Therese had a feeling this was very off the cuff and she was shocked by it. “Enough of this regimented, hierarchical structure you’re trying to abide by and adhere to.” Carol’s voice had found it’s natural groove, whatever had been bothering her earlier clearly starting to clear - storm clouds rolling out.    
  
“Oh. Ok.” Therese didn’t know quite how to respond. She felt giddy. She felt as if she was being initiated into some sort of secret society. She felt... special.    
  
Carol placed a hand on Therese’s shoulder. The younger woman almost collapsed as she felt her whole body grow warm. Her lips began to tingle where Carol’s finger had just touched them.   
  
“There are many things I can teach you, Therese.” Carol paused now, finally finding a brake pedal on her train of thoughts, finally realizing the need to chose her words carefully. “You’re unique, you’re thoughtful, and you’re incredibly gifted at this crazy specialty I love so much.”    
  
Therese noticed herself holding her breath and forced an exhale, which came out more loudly than she anticipated. “I love it too, Dr. Aird. I’m so torn, I really am. I think I do want to do Critical Care after my residency, but I think you may have also heard that - “   
  
“That you are interested in the global medicine scholarship. I know. Genevieve Cantrell and I are... we know each other well.”    
  
Carol’s brief hesitation wasn’t lost on Therese, and the young intern filed it away in her mind to ponder later when she wasn’t trying to focus on actually breathing. Carol dropped her hand from the younger woman’s shoulder and Therese felt its absence like a tangible void.    
  
“I can’t tell you what to do with your career, Therese.” Carol took a step toward the younger woman and spoke in a quieter tone. “I can only tell you what I know, and I know that you have a talent for this. And losing a year of teaching in the middle of your residency to do this scholarship trip could be harmful to the arc of your training.”    
  
Therese cast her eyes towards the ground. She knew all this. It only made it harder to hear it come from Carol. She felt nauseated.    
  
“Therese, look at me.” Carol placed her hand gently under the younger woman’s chin and drew her eyes up. “Hear me out, because I doubt this conversation is going where you think it is.”    
  
Therese blinked quickly, trying to abort tears that were threatening to fall. She didn’t want to look over emotional on top of everything else, but she really was struggling with this decision and its weight on her heart and mind had already taken a serious toll.    
  
“What if you could follow your heart and go on this trip, but also continue to have a way to grow clinically with an emphasis on Critical Care?” Carol stopped, allowed Therese to ponder and take it all in.    
  
Therese let out a deep sigh. “I wish that was more of a realistic possibility, but without any Critical Care faculty on the team, I will have to work with one of our people. That means I’m going to be doing a whole lot of Cardiology with Dr. Cantrell, because there aren’t any other Internal Medicine specialties represented... and god knows I don’t want to be doing any cross-over with OB/GYN.”    
  
Carol laughed out loud at this, the moment briefly lightened.    
  
Therese continued, trying to talk herself into the validity of her argument as much as she was trying to explain her reasoning to Carol. “There is a lot of Cardiology in Critical Care Medicine. I keep telling myself that. If anything, it will put me in a position to learn some techniques that could be useful. I could try to find that crossover when I can. I’ll still be able to study. Most importantly, I will be able to do the thing I want the most - the outreach, helping the poor, getting kids vaccinated, tending to the wounded. We do have a trauma surgeon from our faculty who is going, and I know that traditionally they are teamed up with the medical ICU docs in the field, so I was also thinking maybe I’ll try to latch on to him and see where that gets me.”    
  
Carol’s lip was turned up again in that smirk that drove the younger woman crazy. “I admire your dedication to this elaborate work around, but.... wouldn’t you rather latch on to me?”    
  
Therese’s eyes shot up as she finally understood what Carol was getting at.    
  
“This morning I told Dr. Cantrell I would be joining the team. She then allowed me to have the great honor of informing you that you have been selected as the scholarship recipient.”   
  
Therese’s heartbeat was so loud in her ears after Carol said she was joining the team that she almost missed the part about getting to be on that same team as well. The younger woman acted instinctively and lunged towards the blonde, wrapping her arms around her neck and hugging her tightly. Carol flinched at first, but then Therese felt a strong arm wrap around her shoulders and return the squeeze. Therese couldn’t help but breathe her in, the blonde’s scent filling her nostrils and electrifying her already frayed nerves.    
  
The hug lingered, neither woman wanting to let go. Carol finally pulled back and let out a sigh when she saw the look on the young doctor’s face. Therese was seemingly lit from within, the previous agonizing internal debate wiped away, dimples blossoming on her reddened cheeks.   
  
“I’m going to take the hug as a yes, you’ll accept the position?” Carol’s smile was deepened. Her cheeks were similarly blushed from the emotions swirling and contact they had just shared.    
  
Carol smiled again and Therese suddenly lost all sense of those customs and rigid rules for interaction that Carol had just been railing against. She felt a sense of hope for her future that was vague and unspecified, but wonderful and warm and promising. “Yes, Dr. Aird. I’d love to latch on to you.”    
  



	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To answer your unanswered question: yes - life has been crazy. But hi!

**Chapter 11**

> _ “Finding your passion isn’t just about careers and money. It’s about finding your authentic self - the one you’ve buried beneath other people’s needs.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Kristin Hannah  _
> 
> _ “No amount of security is worth the suffering of a mediocre life chained to a routine that has killed your dreams.”  _
> 
> _ ~ Maya Mendoza  _

~***~

“Are you fucking crazy?”  
  
Carol couldn’t stifle a snort at her indignant husband. At first glance she thought she saw actual fumes rising from his head as he barged into the living room, but she quickly realized the mirage was more likely the effects of her first three glasses of wine. She had been busy trying to get just drunk enough to allow herself to think about the mess she had put herself in, but not too drunk to become over-emotional and angry. It was a delicate balance.   
  
She sighed deeply and set her wine glass on the coffee table. She took her time in the inevitable shifting of her gaze, savoring every last millisecond that didn’t include confrontation. “I’m not quite sure where you get off questioning me let alone raising your voice to me, Harge.”   
  
“Where do I get off? I’m your husband! You don’t even... don’t even think to discuss it with me before you commit to something like this? You could get yourself killed!”   
  
Carol picked up her wine glass again, allowing herself the reprieve of a large gulp. “I know that,“ she said. “And before you start talking again, let me say that I don’t expect you to understand this. But don’t you dare pretend that this marriage is a pretense to have any sort of say in what I chose to do. It’s already a sham. Don’t belittle it further by pretending it’s something it’s not, by pretending to care if I spend six weeks in a bed across the world instead of in a bed down the hall.”   
  
Harge softened, the furrows in his brow relaxing. He stopped his vigorous pacing and took a seat next to Carol on the couch. “It isn’t about our marriage. I’m sorry I reacted this way. But you know I care about you. Isn’t that enough of a reason to be upset?”  
  
“Sure,” Carol replied, her voice steady. “But you didn’t even bother to ask me why I was doing it or be supportive in any way. You just flipped your shit on me.”   
  
“Oh, Christ. As if I needed to ask about your motives. You don’t think I suspected you and Gen were hooking up again as soon as she got back? Come on. I’m not stupid, Carol.”   
  
“It isn’t about Gen. I know you won’t believe that, Harge, but it’s true. Yes, we slept together - once - since she’s been back. But this isn’t about her.”  
  
Recognition hit Harge like a stone in his gut. “Oh my god. Therese Belivet.” He flinched away from Carol like he had been burned.  
  
Carol couldn’t hide her shame and her face reddened. “Yes. You were right, you guessed it from the beginning. Please, do me the kindness of sparing me the ‘I told you so’ speech for now, darling. There’s something about her. I can’t shake it. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t sleep. I can’t do anything. I know it is wrong and I know it’s crazy, but I don’t know how to think about anything else.”   
  
Harge scooted back towards her on the couch and covered her hands with his own. “Carol, you could lose your job. Worse, you could be put on probation with the graduate medical education board and forego the opportunity to ever work in a teaching hospital ever again. Do you want to be working in an ICU in the middle of nowhere, shipping every interesting case to a bigger University hospital?”   
  
Carol lowered her head, no longer able to hold Harge’s accusing glare. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of all this? I’m not stupid either, darling.”   
  
Harge allowed the silence to sit between them, allowed Carol to wallow in her own uncertainty. “Then... what? What is it? What is it about this young woman that you’re willing to risk your career for?” He was trying desperately  to conceal his frustration, but his hands gesticulated wildly, betraying him.   
  
Carol slumped back into the couch cushions with a groan, no trace of her characteristic gracefulness in sight. Her eyes were fatigued, and they teared and blurred in front of her, distorted vision causing nauseous bile to rise in the back of her throat. “It isn’t just her,” she croaked.   
  
Harge slid closer to his wife on the couch. “You can tell me, Carol. I know our marriage is not a... marriage. I know I have no rights here, nor do I ever care to argue with you over something you feel strongly about. You were there for me through the ill-conceived affair with my own resident. You stood by me through the fallout and you were never judgmental, always kind, always supportive. I wish I knew how to be that for you. I wish I knew how to … support this.”   
  
Carol flinched at the words “ill-conceived affair” the moment they left Harge’s lips. She accidentally bit down on her tongue, drawing blood. The contrasts between herself with Therese and Harge with Jared were stark, and she couldn’t help but take offense at the comparison. For starters, she knew Harge never had actual feelings for Jared - the young Orthopedic Surgery resident Harge had bedded. Harge was drawn into the relationship because Jared worshipped the ground he walked on, and Harge always had been a sucker for anything that fed his monstrous god complex.   
  
Sheer willpower had prevented Carol from too much indulgence in fantasies about Therese, but she was no longer able to deny the simple truth which had long ago captivated her mind - she wanted her. If she could admit that to herself, admitting it to Harge seemed a lesser burden by far.   
  
“I know you think that I’m being rash, deciding to go and putting myself in that position.” Carol sneaked a quick glance towards her husband. She was afraid she would see disdain in his eyes, but she saw only concern.  
  
“I haven’t been myself since Genevieve left.” The words felt foreign as they left Carol’s lips. “My mind was foggy at first and I thought it would pass. I thought that after the initial pain wore off I could re-focus and find more fulfillment in my work. My work was always my first love, the most important thing in my life.” She grasped for her wine glass again, trying to use the brief moment to soften and calm her emotions. “I love what I do, Harge.” Her voice betrayed her, squeaking towards the end as she shuttered in a sob.   
  
Harge reached out quickly, grasping her hands under his much larger ones. Nothing got by him.  “I know you do, sweetheart. Why do you think I’m risking your wrath and pleading with you to consider that much loved job before you make a decision that could jeopardize it?”   
  
“I don’t just love it. I’m fucking great at it.”   
  
Harge let out a deep chuckle. He turned his body towards her, giving her his full attention. “That you are, Carol. There’s no question. You’re the best, and there isn’t a single person at that hospital that doesn’t know that or would say otherwise.”   
  
Carol relaxed back into the couch cushions, her smile fading as quickly as it had surfaced. “But since Gen left, I haven’t felt that way. I haven’t felt like the best, Harge. Not for one day, not even for an hour. I feel wretched and lonely. I feel a palpable sense of longing for the closeness I had with Gen, for the intercourse not just with her body but with her mind. And now that wretchedness has permeated my whole life like a bad smell. It’s gotten under my skin and into my pores and it colors everything I am and everything I do. I can’t practice this way. I can’t teach this way.” Carol halted, her breath catching in her chest as the torrent of emotions accelerated and she fought to keep it at bay.   
  
Harge remained silent, but moved a strong arm to rest against her back. Carol warmed to his touch, softened to his unassuming kindness.   
  
“I can’t go on living every day of my life like a soldier going to battle, my only goal to get through it alive. That’s how it feels, Harge. For a year now, I’ve just been alive but not living. I’ve tried to maintain friendships, but I’ve managed to fuck that up, even with Abby. I’ve tried to maintain interest in my patients and in teaching the residents, but I have no joy in it. I know what they all call me behind my back, Harge.”   
  
Harge raised an eyebrow and feigned innocent cluelessness, but he didn’t play it well. Carol started at him until he realized it was supposed to be a question, and he was supposed to answer it. “The ice queen,” he stuttered.   
  
“That’s right. I deserve it. I’ve always sort of found it funny, and it has never bothered me until now. But now - that’s exactly how I feel now, Harge. I feel frozen. I feel cold to my bones. I know it isn’t because I want Gen, or miss her, because I tried to let her back into my life and I felt nothing. If you would have asked me months ago how I would react if she showed up and showed any interest in the life she had discarded I would tell you I’d be ecstatic.. I thought that losing her was this great wrong, that it was against the grain of the universe, but if anything, sleeping with her only made me feel colder still.”   
  
Harge’s nostrils flared as he took in the severity of his wife’s words. “I didn’t know it was this bad, Carol. You hide it well.”  
  
“I didn’t want sympathy. I still don’t. All I want is a shot to start over and get back to being me, get back to being an ice queen on the outside but a warm, vibrant, living woman on the inside. That’s the place from which I can draw to teach. That’s the place from which I have to be able to draw to do this job properly.”   
  
“So what are you saying?” Harge interrupted, his pragmatic sensibilities pulling trump. “You want to take a break and go to Syria to clear your mind and get a fresh start? I hate to break it to you, darling, but there are much more suitable places to vacation for six weeks that will leave you feeling a lot more refreshed than a stint in a war zone with your ex-lover and a woman you can’t stop thinking about.”   
  
Carol started shaking her head deliberately. “No, no. You’re missing the point,” she interjected. “I feel something, when I’m with Therese. I feel like myself. I feel like I remember all the things I miss about how I used to be. Everyone keeps telling her that my mentorship is the best possible thing to happen to her, but she has no idea how her timely entrance into my life has affected me. I’m the lucky one.  
  
Harge took both her hands in his once again. He was surprised to find tears in her eyes when she finally met his gaze. He quickly scanned his mind and felt a rush of pain as he realized he had never once seen her cry.   
  
“Ok, my dear. Then you must foster this relationship. But do you think you could be confusing all these feelings for romantic ones? Take it from me, it can be hard to separate these things. Can you just focus on the professional relationship you’re building and not think about her in THAT way?”  
  
“No,” Carol replied, quickly and firmly. “No, I cannot.”   
  
Harge groaned and bent forward dramatically to put his head in his hands. “So you’re going.”   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Don’t do anything stupid. I’d say, ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,’ but that is clearly the wrong sentiment for this particular situation.”   
  
Carol laughed out loud.   
  



End file.
